


Call to the Post

by Kashoku



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholism, F/M, Gambling, Horse Racing, M/M, bottom!Castiel, horse racing accidents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kashoku/pseuds/Kashoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A horse gallops with its lungs, Perseveres with its heart, And wins with its character." - Tesio</p><p>When Castiel Novak's sister Anna suddenly dies and leaves him her farm, he finds himself picking up his life and working to keep her dream of the Kentucky Derby alive. Along the way, with help from down-on-his-luck horse trainer Dean Winchester, he starts to realize that some things are worth facing impossible odds for; including winning the Triple Crown with a filly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel removed his glasses and rubbed at his weary eyes with the back of his hand. Blinking through the blurriness he glanced at the clock across the room and sighed at the time the bright green letters yelled back at him. Translating this piece of text had become such an important task for him that the man barely slept at all these days. At this point however, he was becoming quite useless in the task.

 

Leaving his glasses on the desk he made for his bedroom, clothes falling to the floor in a trail behind him.  The bed sank underneath his weight as he finally allowed his fatigued body to fall. Just as he was shoving his feet under the covers his cell phone, still on the bedside table from when he plugged it in yesterday, rang. Castiel let an exasperated sigh fall from his lips as he reached over to tilt the screen enough for the caller ID to show.

 

Gabriel.

 

Frowning, Castiel sat up in the bed and accepted the call, suddenly feeling wide awake as concern filled him. He and his brother rarely spoke, both too busy with their respective lives to do much more than pass messages on through Anna. Gabriel wouldn't call him himself, not unless something had happened. “Gabriel? What’s wrong?”

 

Gabriel’s voice was shaky as it came through the receiver. _“Castiel… It’s Anna.”_

 

Castiel felt his skin grow cold. His room was already quiet with its bare walls and lackluster colors, but it went completely as he forced himself to ask: “What is it? What’s wrong with Anna?”

 

_“Bro…. She’s dead.”_

 

Castiel’s breathing stopped as he brought his free hand to his mouth, trying to digest that simple sentence. There was a moment of denial and then question after question shot through his brain. “What... What happened?”

 

 _“Drunk driver… Hit her dead on. They say she died instantly._ _Cassie, I need you to come down here. I don’t know what to do. The farm… the horses. What’s going to happen to it all?”_

 

Castiel wiped the tears from his eyes and took in a deep breath, pushing aside his grief for now to focus on Gabriel. “I’ll get the first flight out to Lexington that I can. Can you pick me up?”

 

_“Yeah, of course. Just let me know your flight information when you get it.”_

 

Thankfully, it didn't take long to get a flight from D.C to Lexington. It only took a single call to his boss at the Smithsonian to get two weeks leave approved to handle funeral arrangements and the farm, but she had not been pleased about it despite the circumstances. The only part of the flight Castiel even remembered was take-off and landing. It was much needed sleep, especially since he feared it would only get worse as the lawyers started coming in.

 

Once he'd gathered up his bag from the conveyor, he stepped outside the terminal and there was Gabriel, waiting for him as promised. His older brother looked even worse for wear than the reflection Castiel saw that morning in the mirror, the age lines usually overlooked in the face of Gabriel's never ending energy standing out prominently on his face. For half a moment Castiel felt the distance between them as a living thing, overwhelmingly great and hopelessly insurmountable. Then Gabriel caught sight of him and smiled, his relief clear, and the moment passed. Castiel stepped forward into his brother's tight hug. “Gabriel… It’s good to see you.”

 

“Yeah, you too, bro. Just wish it weren’t like this,” Gabriel responded as he helped his brother get his bag into the trunk of his car.

 

Sadness tinged both their expressions at that. “Me too.”

 

The silence after that felt very awkward to Castiel, though a glance suggested Gabriel was not bothered by it, perhaps taking it in stride as they rounded the car to settle in. Still, he struggled to think of something to fill the void. “I saw where you won the Breeder’s Cup on Asia,” he eventually settled for, thinking Gabriel's career would be safe ground as he settled into the passenger’s seat.

 

Gabriel gave an amused snort despite the still lingering sadness. “That was two years ago, bro.”

 

Castiel’s cheeks flushed red. “Oh…”

 

“It was a good race though. Nothing like singing ‘Heat of the Moment’ to your competitors as you blaze right past them.”

 

“I apologize. Time seems to just… fly by these days.”

 

Gabriel started the engine and began easing out of his parking spot. “I don’t know how you keep time straight period, being a badass historian and all. Is that still going okay for you?”

 

Castiel gave a halfhearted smile at the familiar joke. Honestly, historian was an oversimplification of his career, but he no longer took offense at it as he once had, having recognized eventually that Gabriel's insistence on ignoring his corrections was teasing, not insult. That it had taken many long conversations with Anna to reach that point was irrelevant. His brother tried and that was what Castiel took to heart. “Yes. I enjoy it very much, despite its long hours. How has riding been? And the farm?”

 

“It’s good, been good… It’s been real good. We’ve…” Gabriel had to pause to keep himself from choking up. “We’ve had good horses and good wins, bro. The past year we haven’t really had anything because Asia had just given birth, but her filly is ready to start. I mean… We were really hoping for a colt. It was always Anna’s dream to get to the Derby – and shit, mine too – but Laz isn’t going to get us there. All our other horses are racing great, but they’re all over three and need to be put to stud soon.”

 

Castiel’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand. Are fillies prohibited from running in the Derby?”

 

Gabriel gave him an exasperated glance and the corners of his mouth tugged up. “How are we even related? No, but they aren’t as fast as the colts. I mean, there’s been a few to race in the Derby – maybe thirty-five, but of those only three won. The odds just aren’t good. I'd finally convinced Anna we needed to start looking for some young colts to break, and then…” He swallowed hard and stared straight ahead, his golden eyes focusing on the road too intently to really be seeing it. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Cassie.”

 

“Why don’t you take over the farm?” Castiel suggested quietly. “You know the business better than anyone.”

 

Gabriel was shaking his head before the words had even finished leaving his mouth. “Hell no, bro! I can’t be a jockey _and_ try and run the business, too. It just doesn’t work that way.” He shifted in his seat and, with one last glance at Castiel, turned the radio dial up so that the rest of the drive involved no further conversation. For Anna's memory, Castiel chose the side of tact and pretended neither of them knew he wasn't suggesting that Gabriel do both.

 

 

Meadowland Stables was nothing like Castiel remembered and everything all at once.  There were a hundred acres of beautiful green grass and the stables were located on the east side of the house like he recalled, but everything looked newer and more expensive. Anna really had done well for herself. Castiel spoke with her over the phone often, but neither of their schedules allowed for them to see each other much and when they did it was always her coming to him when a race brought her that way. He hadn't been back to the farm in what he was only now realizing was years.

 

Gabriel drove up the driveway, its path lined by a beautiful white fence nicer than Castiel remembered and thick oak trees. The large iron gate was already open and inviting as they drove through and towards the main house. Gabriel pulled in towards the garage and muttered out a curse as he noticed the black suburban already parked there.

 

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked.

 

“That’s Anna’s lawyer, Victor Henriksen. He’s a good guy, I just… Shit, this makes it all real, you know?”

 

Castiel nodded in understanding and put a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

 

Victor had been waiting in his car and opened his door in unison with the two brothers. “Gabriel. And you must be Castiel… My condolences.” He held out his hand and shook each of theirs in greeting. “I know you are both grieving, but we really need to go over Anna’s Will and get all her finances sorted out.”

 

Castiel nodded. “Of course. Follow me.”

 

Shortly enough they were settled in the drawing room, Victor's leather briefcase open on the mahogany coffee table as he pulled out a considerable stack of papers, and without even time to set his luggage in his room, Castiel found himself waist-deep in this new world without his sister in it. Gabriel was by his side initially, but soon the legalese - or the reality of their loss - had the man fleeing out of proclaimed boredom, instructing his brother to come fetch him when his name was mentioned anywhere. Victor had paused at that, casting concerned looks at Castiel's rumpled appearance and suggested they all break for lunch, but Castiel shook his head and motioned for him to continue.

 

They made good time, but there seemed to be no end to the papers to sign or accounts to be reviewed, and by the time he and Victor made it to the heart of things Castiel was well and truly exhausted.. But there it was, the end of things, the final pages in his sister's life. Anna left the horses and personal effects to Gabriel and most of the finances to the farm itself. She wished, quite clearly, to be cremated and buried with her previous horses in the back acre. And of course...

 

“That leaves the farm itself.” Victor flipped to the next page of the Will and began to read: “ _I devise, bequeath, and give all of the remainder of my estate and Meadowland Stables as follows: 100% to Castiel Novak._ ”

 

Castiel’s pen dropped to the table with an abrupt clatter. “What?”

 

“Castiel, she’s leaving the farm to you,” Victor reiterated.

 

Castiel pushed his glasses up on his nose and shook his head. “That’s not possible. I know nothing about this business.”

 

“Well, it’s about time you learn - or sell the farm.”

 

Castiel rubbed his temple and swiped a hand over his face before pushing his chair back and standing. “I need a moment, if you please…”

 

“Of course.” Victor nodded, beginning to fill out some paperwork as Castiel left the room.

 

He headed for the kitchen, not sure what he intended to do, but thinking distantly of splashing water on his face. He found Gabriel there, sucking down a beer pensively.

 

As soon as Gabriel noticed Castiel's entrance, he gave him a curious look. “Geez, Anna come back to haunt you already?”

 

Castiel didn’t respond at first, his head down, before he finally realized his brother had been speaking to him. “What?”

 

“Jesus Christ, kiddo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What did Henriksen have to say?” Gabriel popped the top to a second beer and offered it to his brother.

 

With shaking hands Castiel took hold of the beer, and downed the entire thing before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “She left the farm to me.”

 

His older brother’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re joking. I mean, I kind of wondered when it wasn't left to me, but you?”

 

“Gabriel, I… I can’t, I-” Castiel grabbed at his chest, the fog that had settled into his head while he went over Anna's will suddenly creeping further into his awareness as it seemed to get harder to breathe in air.

 

“Whoa!” Gabriel jumped up, dropping the beer on the table in favor of grabbing onto his brother’s arms and guiding him to sit in a chair in the living room. He practically shoved Castiel's head between his legs. “Breathe, baby bro. Inhale, now exhale. There...” He knelt down so that he was looking up at Castiel’s downcast face. “Anna left the entire farm to you?”

 

Castiel nodded, still feeling panicked. “Gabriel, I barely know anything about horses. How could she possibly do this?”

 

“Hey, calm down.” He put a comforting hand on his brother’s. “You deal with most of the business stuff at the Smithsonian, right? All the costs as far as managing and getting ancient books and stuff you need, right?” There was a nod. “And a lot of being a historian is record keeping?”

 

“Well, technically-”

 

“Yes or no, bro?”

 

Hesitantly Castiel nodded.

 

 “Well, see, you're halfway there.”

 

“But I know nothing of what horses are the best to buy or bloodlines to breed to!” Castiel protested.

 

“Research, buddy. That’s all that is, and I’m pretty sure that’s something you are good at, considering. I’ll be here to help you every step of the way, I promise.” He took both of Castiel’s hands in his. “Please, bro. I need you to try. You can’t sell the farm.”

 

Castiel sucked in a shuddered breath, nodding slowly. “I couldn’t do that. Not to Anna... This was everything to her.”

 

“Good,” Gabriel smiled as he stood up. “The first thing you need to know is that as a business owner you’re going to have to deal with bad news a lot. In fact, I have some for you now. When our previous trainer found out Anna has passed, he didn’t want to stick around to see what would happen. We officially have no trainer for our horses.”

 

“So then we need to hire another one,” Castiel inferred.

 

“Yup.”

 

“I don’t suppose you have anyone in mind?”

 

Gabriel snorted. “Who’s going to want to take on a filly as the main prospect of the farm? Yeah, right. We need to buy colts to attract trainers, but we need trainers to buy the colts.”

 

With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, Castiel shoved his face into his hands. How was he ever supposed to manage all of this?

 

/*/

 

“Come on, baby, come on. Push him to the outside, there you go.”

 

Dean Winchester gripped tightly at the railing in front of his seat, bet stub firmly in his hand. He was wearing a worn sport coat with patches where the fabric had withered away to bare threads. His slacks were faded and the soles of his boots were so thin he swore he could feel the gravel on his skin as he walked. The green striped tie was about the only thing on him that did not look like it had seen a war. He couldn’t even manage an actual dress shirt, instead wearing a lighter green polo underneath the coat.

 

The horses rounded the final turn. “Come on, Khan; come on, baby. Come on, Don, let him go! The hole is right there!” Dean gripped at his bangs as he watched his horse slip further and further to the rear across the finish line. “Son of a _bitch!_ ” He threw down the stub in anger and made his way out of the stands back towards the stables.  His boss was just ahead, storming towards him which was great because that was just who Dean wanted to see. “Rufus, Don needs to go!”

 

Rufus crossed his arms as he came to a stop in front of him, his dark face as forgiving as stone as he stared hard at the trainer. “Yeah? Well I’m sorry, Dean, but it’s not Don that needs to go.”

 

Dean’s green eyes widened and he jerked back, feeling a horrible sense of foreboding. It was a force of will that had his spine straightening and his mouth going seconds later, ready to defend himself. “What?! Rufus, come on! Don didn’t let go! Khan had plenty of stamina left if the fucking idiot had just let go!”

 

Rufus shook his head. “I’m sorry, kid, but you are just bad for business these days. You had your run and it’s over.”

 

Dean grabbed the taller man’s arm as he turned to walk away. “Rufus, I need this job! I don’t have anything left.”

 

“You should have thought of that before you went and blew everything you had. Boy, you were one of the best. You had everything. It ain’t my fault you didn’t know how to handle your money better.” Rufus shook Dean off his arm and continued on.

 

Dean stood there unmoving, feeling himself going into a state of shock. “Rufus, _please_ ,” he begged.

 

“Sorry, Dean,” Rufus responded without turning back, the man having no intentions of carrying on the conversation any further.

 

Dean turned his back and tilted his head to the sky to try and blink the tears back. With a hand rub down his face and a pinch of his nose he began a slow amble to the only thing left he had to call home. The Impala was sitting there as it always was, black paint spotless and chrome shining bright. Dean drove to a small liquor store a few blocks away from the track and pulled out the last wad of cash he had to pay for a bottle of Jack.

 

When the trucks and trailers cleared from the race track he parked back behind the barns and moved to the back seat where blankets were sprawled out on the floor.  Shucking himself out of the jacket he bundled it up and stuffed it underneath his pillow. With a deep sigh he crossed his arms and let his body settle on its side into what was likely to be a permanent bed for the foreseeable future.        

 

Just as Dean finally felt his eyelids begin to close his phone began vibrating violently underneath his head. It took some groping to find the pocket and get the phone out, but eventually he had it in hand, the name “Bitch” sprawled in white across the screen. “Hey, Sammy,” Dean answered as he settled back down.

 

_“Dean! You never called to tell me how the race went!”_

Dean swallowed. “It uh, it went good. Didn’t win, but in the money.” He hated lying to his brother. There was always the feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach, but Sam had enough to worry about between his law-firm and wife.

 

_“That’s good! When are you finally going to come visit?”_

 

Dean rubbed at his eyes, suddenly uncomfortable. He'd had this conversation enough to recognize the direction it was heading in. “I don’t know, Sam. You know I’m busy.”   

 

There was an annoyed sigh at the other end. _“Dean, is it the money?”_

 

And there it was. “No,” he insisted, too defensive by far. Wincing, he tried to cover. “I just don’t have the time. Maybe in a few months, alright?”

 

_“Dean, you know I’d help you out if you needed it, right? All you have to do is ask.”_

“Stop worrying yourself, Samantha, I’m fine,” Dean reiterated.

 

_“Okay… Well, just, call more often, alright? I worry about you.”_

 

“Yeah, yeah, this is about to become a serious chick-flick moment. Tell Jess hi for me, okay?”

 

_“Sure thing. Bye, Dean.”_

 

Dean hung up the phone and tossed it into the front seat. He knew his brother would spot him any money he needed without hesitation, but to be honest he had far too much pride to ask for even a penny. No, Dean got himself into this mess so he was going to somehow see himself out. But the road in front of him seemed to go on without an end in sight… For the first time since his mother had died, Dean cried himself to sleep.

 

/*/

 

For the twenty-fifth time that day, Castiel found himself hanging up the phone in disappointment, now with only five days left before he had to be back in D.C.

 

Gabriel had introduced Castiel to the staff and the horses the day after the funeral. Bobby was the stable help, a gruff old man who always had something to say. Charlie was the groom, a cheerful young woman who had bonded well with Gabriel between their crude jokes and references to things Castiel did not understand. Then there was Lazarus, the young filly Anna had seen so much promise in. She was young and had a bright spirit, always running around in the pasture with the other horses.

 

Castiel had researched Lazarus’s blood lines and gathered all the information he needed to sell the filly to potential trainers, but they all laughed in his face at a filly being the farm prospect. Removing his glasses he placed his face in his hands and let his shoulders fall. Gabriel had given him hope at first, but now it all seemed like an impossible task.

 

There was a soft knock at the door and Castiel looked up through blurry vision. Reaching for his glasses his sight cleared to find Bobby at the doorway. “Ah, Mr. Singer. What can I do for you?”

 

“Not to snoop into business that ain’t mine, but I got a call from an old buddy of mine a few days ago. Said he had a guilty conscious about firing his trainer and wanted to know if I knew anyone who could help the kid out,” Bobby explained.

 

Castiel’s lips tightened in a thin line. “Why not simply hire the man back if he feels so guilty? Why was he fired in the first place?”

 

“It ain't his skill or character if that's what you're thinking. He used to be one of the most successful up-and-coming trainers in the business, but he started to hit a spell of bad luck. People in this industry are a tad suspicious about those kinds of things. As soon as word got around, no one wanted to touch him with a 10-foot pole.”

“But you are suggesting I do as such?” Castiel frowned.

 

Bobby shrugged. “Doesn’t sound to me like you're having much luck on finding anyone else.”

 

With a contemplative sigh Castiel rubbed at the side of his temple before pushing his glasses back up the brim of his nose and making eye contact. In all honesty, he needed a trainer so badly, it wasn't much of a decision. “What’s his name?”

 

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean couldn’t believe it when he’d gotten the call a few days ago from Castiel Novak. He had met the widowed - and now deceased - Anna Milton a few times on the road and knew she had been highly successful. The opportunity to possibly work at Meadowland Farms made Dean’s skin quiver.

 

There were only a few crumpled dollar bills to his name, and the drive from Maryland to Kentucky would cost much more than that. A night of hustling at the local bar got him enough to fill up the tank of his baby and start on the road. A truck stop served as his hotel for the night since the showers were free and the coffee warm. Wake up was long before the sun so that he could make it to Lexington before noon like he had promised.

 

Castiel seemed like an odd person on the phone, but Dean was the last person to place judgment on others. The man had seemed nervous about starting their prospect was a filly, but Dean could have cared less if it were a donkey they were trying to race. Hell, there had been some fillies that had won more money than that year’s Derby winner. It was a job, and that was what Dean needed most.

 

It was still considered early by the time he started rolling in through the front gate. The rising sun was shielded by dense blankets of fog on the green hills, the horses shifting like ghosts through the mist. It was Dean’s favorite time of day to witness, and it was even more glorious to witness on the track. Even with the fog as thick as it was, the house had no problem peeking through. Dean’s heart began to flutter with nervousness as he placed the Impala in park and removed the keys from the ignition. _Don’t fuck this up_ kept repeating in his head like a mantra.

 

Making his way to the door, he rubbed at his hands anxiously before straightening out his jacket and ringing the doorbell. The door swung open and he was met with the kind face of a portly black woman. “Um, hello, ma’am I-,”

 

“You must be Dean Winchester!” She smiled. “Well don’t just stand there, boy, come on in! Name’s Missouri. I’m the house help around here,” She explained as she closed the door behind him. “Can I get you anything?”

 

“Ah, no, thank you,” He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

“Looks like you need a shot of tequila if you ask me, the way you’re standing there all apprehensive,” she commented wryly as she motioned for him to follow her.

 

Dean swallowed, “That obvious?”

 

“Just a tad,” she spoke over her shoulder. The woman stopped in front of a pair of elaborately decorated double-doors. “Wait here, I’ll fetch Castiel for you.”

 

While Missouri disappeared from his view Dean took the time to take in his surroundings. There were old photographs of legends past and trophies lining the walls. He remembered a time when every place he worked at looked this lavish, but it was long ago when he wasn’t living out of his Impala and his clothes were brand new.

 

The door opened behind him, causing a jump from Dean as he whirled around. His heart leapt out of his chest as he came face-to-face with the man he assumed to be Castiel. He was an inch or two shorter than him with tousled dark locks and piercing blue eyes framed with black glasses. His dress was sophisticated, comprising of pressed slacks, rolled-up sleeves of a dress-shirt, and a sweater vest. Dean couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes raking over the well-dressed figure; the man was nothing a horse businessman should be like, but everything his groin wanted.

 

Castiel extended a hand in greeting, “Ah, Dean. I’ve been expecting you.”

 

Dean’s shell-shock caused him to hesitate before he quickly grasped Castiel’s hand and shook it firmly with a flush of his cheeks, “Mr. Novak, it’s a pleasure.”

 

“Just Castiel, if you please. I suppose I’ll show you around and tell you about the place. If you are still interested afterwards we will discuss finalities in my office.” Castiel brushed past Dean and led the man back out of the house and towards the main barn. “I hope your drive went smoothly.”

 

Dean shrugged, “I made it here. Can’t complain, I guess.”

 

“Hm,” Castiel agreed, “Meadowland takes up roughly 100 acres. We only have 15 horses at the moment, and of that only five are actively racing. The rest are for breeding purposes, the mares are all in foal, and then of course there is Lazarus. It was Anna’s intentions on purchasing some colts that we could start this year, but...”

 

Dean swallowed, unsure if he should say something or not, but offered up a, “My condolences.”

 

“It’s appreciated,” Castiel assured as they approached the barn. “Would it be feasible for you to look into buying two or three colts? Or do you think perhaps that is too much to work with at once?”

 

“No, no, that’s not a problem. Actually,” he rubbed at the back of his neck as they stepped foot into the fairly quiet barn, “I have a few in mind I think have a lot of potential.” He did not wait for an answer from Castiel before his green eyes fell on the massive bay mare to his right. “Oh, man! Is that Asia?” Without even asking permission he darted up to the stall door and stuck a hand out. The mare instantly shoved her nose against the man’s palm looking for affection. “I was there at the Breeder’s Cup when Gabriel rode her to win. She’s like, the most bad-ass chick I’ve seen on the track.”

 

“Why, thank you,” Gabriel purred as he suddenly popped up like magic next to Dean.

 

Dean quickly pulled away from the stall, cursing in surprise. “Jesus, man. Do you always do that?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed in annoyance. “Dean, this is my brother, Gabriel. Gabriel, Dean Winchester.”

 

Gabriel shook hands with a sly grin. “The infamous Dean-o, huh? Well, it just might be your lucky day. If I remember correctly, you are just my baby bro’s type.”

 

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Castiel warned with darkened eyes. “That’s quite enough. Don’t you have things to do?”

 

Gabriel shrugged, stretching his arms and resting them on top of Asia’s stall door, “Nope. Shouldn’t I be part of the selection process, anyways?”

 

“No.”

 

Gabriel frowned and pushed off the door with his foot. “Fine, fine. Just get me a trainer so I can, you know, actually ride!” As he passed by Dean he slapped the man’s ass and leaned in to whisper, “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

 

Dean flushed bright red and coughed in embarrassment. Glancing back towards Castiel he was surprised to see the other man was flushed, too. “He always like that?”

 

“For as long as I’ve known him, unfortunately. There was always such a time gap between our meetings I always hoped I’d find him changed; perhaps it is something I should give up hope on.” Fiddling with the hem of his sweater vest he reorganized himself and held out a hand, “Please, this way. The tack room is over here.”

 

Dean ran a hand down his face to relax it and follow behind. The tack room doubled as a break room with one-half comprised of a kitchenette, a television, and a white table in the center where a young woman with fire-red hair sat with a tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

 

“Dean, this is our groom, Charlie,” Castiel introduced.

 

Charlie stood with a smile and extended her hand, “Charlie Bradbury, nice to meetcha!” They exchanged pleasantries and she turned her focus to her boss, “I know I was going to give everyone a bath today, but the weather has turned out kind of blah, so I was going to wait until tomorrow.”

 

“Whatever seems best,” Castiel nodded and turned to Dean, “Shall we continue?” Dean nodded and fell back into line. Castiel reached for the handle of a door down the alley a bit and opened it, “In here is our feed room-,”

 

“Bobby?!” Dean pushed past Castiel towards the man scooping grain into buckets.

 

Bobby dropped the scoop as he caught sight of the man charging for him and met him for the hug. “Dean! It’s good to see you, boy!”

 

Dean felt the tears sting at his eyes as he squeezed his godfather tighter. There was a long moment the two lingered like that until Dean finally pushed the older man away. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in _years_ , Bobby. What the hell happened?”

 

Bobby looked down in shame. “I couldn’t. After what happened to your Daddy...I didn’t think I could face you.”

 

“What happened to him wasn’t your fault. Bobby, we’re family. I needed you,” Dean raked his fingers through his hair distractedly, still in a sort of shock at the entire situation. It wasn’t until a cough from Castiel did the consequences of his actions become real. He had just put him and Bobby at risk.

 

Bobby knew it, too. “Aw, hell. Castiel, I wouldn’t blame you if you fired me for this. I wasn’t lying when I said Rufus had called me, but if I know anything about that man it’s that he doesn’t have a guilty bone in his body. When he told me about Dean I just...I had to do something. He’s my godson – he’s family.”

 

Castiel stood there in thought, pushing up his glasses on his nose a few times even when it could go no further. “Mr. Singer, I have no intentions on firing you. I never asked if you knew Dean or not, and you gave a recommendation where it was needed. If I did not care about family, Gabriel would no longer be working here, I assure you.”

 

“Ain’t that the damn truth,” Bobby grumbled. Dean couldn’t stop a small grin tugging at his lips; he’d missed Bobby’s comments more than he’d wanted to admit.

 

“I am sure you and Dean have much to catch up on, but we do have business to discuss,” Castiel spoke.

 

Bobby nodded and placed a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder, “It’s good to see you, boy.”

 

Dean took in a shuddered breath and nodded. Despite Castiel’s words in regards to Bobby, he felt this going south faster than his bank account. His mouth was open ready to spit out apologies and assurance of his skills as he turned to face the blue-eyed man, but Castiel spoke first.

 

“I’ll be frank. No one else wants to work here, and I am desperate. With that being said, I do not want to blindly accept you simply based on my desperation. I do appreciate the enthusiasm you show in working with a filly, but I need your honest opinion; do you think she can win?”

 

“I can’t give you a definite answer, Castiel,” Dean began honestly. Licking his lips he contemplated what to say. “All these trainers and breeders out there want to tell you it’s all about bloodlines, but that ain’t shit; a good racehorse is one who has heart. It’s one who wants to be there and won’t settle for anything less than seeing only dirt laid out in front of them. I’ll know after the first race, but until then it’s chance.” Swallowing hard, he asked, “Can I see her?”

 

Castiel sucked in a breath, “Yes, of course. She’s at this end of the barn.”

 

Engraved on a golden plaque of the stall was “LAZARUS RISING”. The filly poked her head out at the new comers with ears perked forward. She was dark, black in the shadows of the barn. The white star on her forehead curved in such a way it almost looked like a feather. Lazarus whinnied in greeting and Dean reached out to place a palm on her forehead. “She’s incredible,” he breathed. “Great long legs, strong hips.” Dean could feel himself shaking as he stroked the filly’s face; he needed this chance, needed this horse. “I’ll take minimum salary and a lower percentage pay cut from purses.”

 

Castiel stared back at Dean in shock, blinking several times before furrowing his brow. “That won’t be necessary. Should I ultimately decide to hire you it will be with competitive pay and benefits as it had been when Anna was still owner.”

 

“It’s just-,” Dean bit at his tongue to stop himself. _Don’t beg, don’t beg._ He tried to find something to say, but there were no other words he could possibly find. How could he ask a man he’d just met to take him on in blind faith? Biting at his lower lip he closed his eyes, expecting Castiel to throw him out that instant - he was pathetic.

 

But instead, he got a comforting hand to his shoulder, and eyes full of pity. He hated that look. It was one his brother gave him all the time.

 

“When Mr. Singer gets ready to take his break, go and have lunch with him. You two have a lot of catching up to do. When you get back, come see me and I will have made my decision,” Castiel instructed.

 

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. Castiel made his leave with not a single word, leaving Dean at Lazarus’s stall. Bobby ambled over not long after Castiel had made it out of the barn with hands in his jean pockets and a solemn look. “Well...don’t just stand there and look pitiful. Might as well give me a hand.”

 

/*/

 

“Jesus, bro, you got it _bad_.”

 

There was an extreme delayed reaction from Castiel for him to avert his eyes from staring in the distance up to his brother. “I’m not sure I follow.”

 

Gabriel was leaning up against the doorframe with a smirk. “I was just kidding about him being your type and all, but now I’m not so sure. That kid has serious self-worth issues and is a walking Friday the 13th, and you’ve already made up your mind you are going to hire him.”

 

“You act as I have another option,” Castiel sighed. “Is he perhaps the most ideal candidate? No. But there is something about him that...” he trailed off trying to grasp at the correct words.

 

“That makes you warm and fuzzy down-under?” Gabriel offered.

 

Castiel shot a glare at his brother. “That is _honest_. I believe he has the horses’ best interest at heart, and that he would not run the horses into the ground as so many trainers do.”

 

Gabriel eyed his brother, noting how surprisingly earnest his brother was – there was _definitely_ something to look out for here. The jockey hummed in thought, “I guess. I dunno, I feel a little awkward hiring a hobo.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, “So perhaps his clothes were a bit worn, I hardly would consider that -”

 

“All he owns is that car of his,” Gabriel interjected.

 

“Did he tell you this?” Castiel inquired with a sigh, quickly getting irritated and feeling an intense headache coming on.

 

“Please,” the man snorted, “I can tell. People usually dress in their nicest clothing for business interviews. Are you trying to tell me he has something better and decided to show up in that?”

 

Castiel could feel his stomach drop. It shouldn’t have made him feel guilty, but the sensation was nagging at him with a forceful pull. “I suppose you are right.” Folding his hands together he tucked them underneath his chin. “Well, then, it seems we each have something the other needs. He has the necessary skills and knowledge to train, and I have basic living necessities.”

 

Gabriel propped his right foot against the frame and looked down at the carpet, and all trace of teasing in his voice was gone when he spoke. “So what happens when you inevitably leave in a week when you have to go back to work?”

 

That hit Castiel like a slap to the face. Work had been scratching at the corner of his mind, but every time it tried to surface he had pushed it back to focus on things at the farm. “I have a life outside of this farm, Gabriel.”

 

His brother gave an angry grunt, “What life, Cassie?” he asked scathingly. “A life as a loner and a recluse who gets his kicks studying old dead people? Who can’t even have a conversation face-to-face? We’re talking about your family! So you’re just going to walk away and let me down? Let _Anna_ down?!”

 

 “I did not ask for this, Gabriel!” Castiel slammed his fist on the desk causing a few statues to fall and papers to go flying off.

 

“Yeah, well, you were dealt it!” Gabriel argued back, pushing off the frame angrily. “It’s bad enough you plan on screwing me, Charlie, and Bobby over, but don’t you _dare_ get this guy’s hopes up just to throw him to the wolves.”

 

Castiel’s eyes grew cold, “Don’t you insinuate -,”

 

“I’m not insinuating anything - it’s fact. You’ve always gone and done your own thing, leaving us behind. Just put the damn farm up for sale and go!” He grabbed hold of the wooden double doors and slammed them shut behind him.

 

Castiel felt himself shaking and he tried to hold it in, but a sob escaped his lips as he tried to breathe.

 

For hours Castiel had stared at the phone on his desk trying to gain the courage to call his boss back at the Smithsonian while Gabriel’s words echoed in his head; every time he went to pick it up, his nerves failed him. Dean and Bobby had left in the Impala about forty-five minutes ago, and could be back at any moment. He had to do this...he had to make the call.

 

With a shuddered breath and shaking hands he picked up his cell and dialed the number for his boss, Naomi. He prayed that she would not answer, but after three rings she heard her mellow voice.

 

_“Castiel? I didn’t expect to hear from you before your return.”_

 

“Yes, well,” he grabbed hold of a pen and began clicking it nervously, “Some extenuating circumstances have come up that I must discuss with you.”

 

_“Do you need a few more days?”_

 

Castiel could feel the lump in his throat growing. “Not exactly. I...,” God, help him. “My sister left me her business in her Will.”

 

There was a silence on the other end of the line before a cautious, _“I see. And what are your plans?”_

 

Castiel’s grip on the pen was so tight that it cracked the plastic. “I believe it would be best if I stay here and carry on my sister’s legacy.”

 

There was a long and drawn out sigh. _“Castiel, in all the years you’ve worked for me you have never once talked about your family or ever taken off time to visit. It was as if you had none. Now all of a sudden you want to throw away the life you had here for a business you know nothing about? You are our finest historian. If this is about money, I’m sure I can get you a significant raise -,”_

 

Castiel could feel himself panicking. “It’s not about money, Naomi, It’s -,” there was a knock at the door.

 

“Castiel, Dean Winchester has returned,” Missouri’s voice called through the door.

  
“Just a moment!” Castiel called back, his heart racing violently in his chest. It was now or never. “I’m very sorry, but I - I - I quit!” Castiel quickly ended the phone call and let the cell drop from his hands to the desk, hands quivering with such strength he could no longer hold on.

 

“Castiel?” Missouri cracked open the door to take a peek, but quickly found herself barging over to the desk. “Child! What’s wrong with you?!”

 

Castiel could not stop shaking. “I’m scared. What if I fail?”

 

“Oh, honey,” Missouri sighed, “We’re all scared of failing. It’s in our nature, but we must take risks if we want to be truly happy in life.”

 

“I was happy!” He argued.

 

“Hmm,” she hummed, “Happy, or just content?” Castiel gave no answer. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. Your sister would be mighty proud of you. It’s all gonna work out in the end, you hear?”

 

“How can you say that?”

 

“Well, not to brag or nothing, but my friends used to say I was a bit of a psychic,” she smiled. “I’m gonna go in the kitchen and fetch you some water, and then you are going to tell that boy he’s hired.”

 

“For a maid you sure are very demanding that things be done,” Castiel scoffed, although it was light-hearted.

 

“Boy, I ain’t no maid, I’m the house help, and I’m helping you keep this house, you understand me?” Missouri didn’t bother waiting for answer as she turned on her heel and headed back out of the office. True to her word she brought him a cold glass of water to help calm his nerves and then Dean Winchester was waiting in the leather chair in front of his desk.

 

“I hope your visit with Mr. Singer was enjoyable,” Castiel began casually, reaching for his phone to turn it off as it vibrated once more with Naomi’s frantic calls.

 

“Yeah,” Dean wiped his palms on his pants and cleared his throat, feeling impatient to hear the answer of what he was really there for, but too cautious to ask for the answer outright. “Yeah, it was real good catching up.”

 

“That’s good to hear.” Castiel pushed his glasses back onto his face and began, “You will be paid $85/per horse/per day with the ability for a raise if they perform above standard. Should you find us some colts, I would pay you a bloodstock charge. It will be your responsibility to pay Gabriel and Charlie for their services to any horse under your training. Anna never liked how things were traditionally done in regards to trainers paying for feed and stall maintenance, so that will not be required of you. If the horse shows in a race, you will receive 10% of the winnings. Again, should the horses exceed expectations there is room for advancement. The small house behind the barn is yours. You are more than welcome to join us for meals if you choose, but it is not required. Is this acceptable?” He held his breath, his pulse beating wildly.

 

Dean’s mouth was slightly ajar. “Holy - yeah. That’s more than acceptable, thank you! I promise I’m going to make Lazarus a winner!”

 

Castiel gave a soft smile, “I do hope that comes to pass, but, Dean, may I be honest?”

 

Dean’s excitement was quickly squashed as he sat down hesitantly. “Uh, sure.”

 

“I know nothing of this world. I could barely tell you the difference between a place and a show until a few days ago. Taking over this business was very unexpected, and I am handling it the best I know how.” Castiel looked down quickly, then met Dean’s gaze once more, letting a little of the helplessness he was feeling into his words. “All I ask is that by my offering you a helping hand, you do the same for me.”

 

Dean’s tense face softened and his body relaxed as he smiled and stared into those brilliant blue eyes. “Hey, no problem, Cas. Whatever you need, I’m your guy.”

 

Castiel’s heart fluttered under Dean’s gaze - and for the first time since Gabriel’s phone call, he felt unafraid.

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house that Castiel had provided for Dean to live in was small, but it was the most amazing and glorious thing Dean had ever seen; even when he was winning and making money, he had still never lived in anything bigger than a one room studio. It came furnished with basic items such as kitchenware, a couch, and an honest-to-god bed to sleep in. He had opted out in joining in on dinner the night before, still feeling out-of-place and awkward, which resulted in a pissed off stomach. Dean had exactly $2.26 to his name and he was not about to spend it unless he had to - but that also meant he’d be forced to mingle with the crowd for meals sooner rather than later.

 

Rummaging through his duffel bag he found a pair of jeans and a polo without holes in it and slipped them on. It was a gorgeous day outside and he was excited to begin working with the horses, especially Lazarus. Bobby had already fed them, and was pulling out supplies ready to start working on stalls after he turned horses out. “Leave Lazarus in,” Dean requested as he pulled up his jeans on his hips. The leather on his belt had worn so much it snapped one day and there had been no money to buy another one.

 

“You gonna finally start that filly, huh?” Bobby asked casually as he reached for Asia’s halter.

 

“Well, I gotta find out what I’m working with,” Dean nodded. “I’m assuming Gabriel will be around to ride her?”

 

“You say that like she’s actually been worked before,” Bobby scoffed. “Gabriel’s gotten a saddle on her and hopped on a few times, but no one has actually ever run her before.”

 

Dean rubbed at his stubble, a bit agitated at the news, but with a sigh he decided it wasn’t worth getting upset over. “Ok, well, no time like the present to do it. Is Gabriel here, yet?”

 

Bobby shrugged, “Haven’t seen him, but doesn’t mean he ain’t hiding somewhere. Charlie was in the tack room cleaning some grooming tools.”

 

Dean nodded, “Yeah, ok. I can have her get Laz ready until Gabriel finally decides to show.”

 

“Not to fear, the Trickster is here,” Gabriel purred as he bound playfully up to Dean. Gabriel was well known amongst other jockeys as the Trickster or Loki because of the practical jokes he always loved to play in the locker rooms; Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the way Gabriel wore the title like a badge of honor. “So, am I finally going to have something to ride?”

 

“I want to see Lazarus on the track,” Dean nodded. “I’ve got to know what I’m working with here.”

 

Gabriel hummed, “Well, she definitely won’t go into a starting gate yet.”

 

“That’s fine,” Dean waved the comment off, “She’s still a baby, I’m not worried about that. I just want to see if she’ll even run.”

 

Gabriel ran a hand through his long hair and stretched his body out. “Whelp, here we go. Alrighty, boss man, let’s do this thing.”

 

Dean was extremely grateful that Meadowland Farms had their own bullring. It was nowhere near the size of actual racing tracks, but that was easily made up for by running a few extra laps. Having it on property also saved money and time in trailering to an offsite facility.

 

Once Charlie had groomed Lazarus Gabriel tacked her up and grabbed his helmet, handing off the lead back to Charlie. “Alright, we’re ready to go. Best way to the track is that-a-way,” he nodded his head off towards the north end of the barn.

 

“Lead the way,” Dean motioned and shoved his hands in his pockets, fiddling with the stopwatch that rested there. He was nervous. Even though this wasn’t a race, this was a preliminary to see if the filly could even run.

 

“Do you want me to keep her in hand?” Gabriel asked as they followed Charlie and Lazarus up the dirt path.

 

“No,” Dean shook his head, “I’ve got to know what she can do. I’m not expecting any record breaking times, she’ll need conditioning, but I gotta know I have something to work with here. I’m not going to spout lies to your brother about her, no matter how much potential Anna thought she might have.”

 

“A slow horse isn’t good for anyone,” Gabriel agreed. “He’ll appreciate the honesty, either way.”

 

“Honesty in what regard?”

 

Gabriel peeked over his shoulder at his brother, “About your horse sucking.”

 

Dean turned his body enough so that he could still walk but acknowledge his boss. As he has been the day previously, Castiel was well dressed but with tousled hair. It was as if the man simply couldn’t be bothered with trying to tame his bedhead. Dean couldn’t help but imagine his fingers through it. “Morning, Cas.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel nodded. “I look forward to seeing Lazarus run.”

 

Dean gave a nervous huff, “I hope it’s worth seeing. Alright, Charlie, you can go ahead and stop her here.” Dean laced his fingers together and offered a boost to the jockey. Charlie had to keep a heavy hold on the filly once Gabriel sat on her back. Lazarus began prancing, ready to go. Dean motioned for the groom to hand him the lead and he took hold of the filly and walked her through the gate onto the track. “When I give her to you just let her get comfortable and warm up around the first lap. Once you hit that first pole, you give her all you got. I’m gonna clock her at the second quarter-mile pole, give her some time to get her at full speed.”

 

When Gabriel gave a nod of his understanding, Dean unhooked the clip and let the filly go. Pulling out his stopwatch he made his way back out to the outside of the fence next to Charlie and Castiel. “Well, she’s got a lot of energy I’ll give her that.”

 

“She looks great,” Charlie beamed.

 

“Are you not worried how wound up she is?” Castiel asked with a furrowed brow.

 

“Nah, she’s just fresh. It’s not nervous energy,” Dean explained. “Alright, here we go.” Gabriel had Lazarus in a canter and was riling her up into a gallop as they approached the first pole. The three watched in silent unison as Lazarus lengthened to full stride. As she approached the second marker Dean started his stop watch. Everyone held their breaths as Lazarus snorted her way along the track, and then there was the click of the watch once more. All three sets of eyes moved to the watch. Dean’s mouth dropped and his body froze.

 

“Your watch is broken,” Charlie murmured, her face in equal amounts of shock.

 

“I don’t understand,” Castiel frowned, “is that a good time?”

 

“How’d she do?!” Gabriel called from the other end of the track, trotting a snorting Lazarus back towards their direction.

 

“That can’t be right,” Charlie took a step back, “That’s faster than War Emblem and Funny Cide’s quarter-mile at the Derby!”

 

Dean gave a slow blink and shook the stopwatch thinking the time might change, but it didn’t; The hand was irrefutably still stopped at 24.2 seconds. “Son of a bitch.”

 

“That’s good, correct?” Castiel asked, impatiently looking between the two of them ~~looking~~ for some sort of explanation.

 

“Don’t leave me hanging!” Gabriel groaned as he brought Lazarus back down to a walk despite the filly’s protest. “She felt pretty fast.”

 

“24.2,” Dean answered plainly.

 

“WHOA!” Gabriel was instantly off Lazarus and grabbing for the stopwatch in Dean’s hand.

 

Charlie hopped the railing and took hold of Lazarus before she could run off. “She was amazing!” The groom gave the filly a loving pat and rub.

 

“So this is good?!” Castiel asked again.

 

Dean shook his head violently, “Yeah. Yeah! I mean, there’s a million factors that could still come into play - like track conditions, how she reacts to dirt in her face, traffic - but,” He put his hands on his head and rubbed one down his face. “This is awesome.” Dean could not even begin to explain how awesome this really was. A fire was suddenly ignited within him, and he felt so _alive_. “Charlie, go ahead and cool her down real well before turning her out. I’m going to get a training regiment going on her immediately. We’ll need to pull out those gates over there, too, and start training her on that.

 

Charlie gave an excited nod and began walking Lazarus back, a bounce in her step as she snaked an arm underneath the filly’s neck and began patting her over and over with praise.

 

Gabriel unfastened his helmet and placed his hands on his hips. “I’ll be damned. Maybe Anna knew something we didn’t. Bu-u-ut,” he drew the word out purposely, “Dean is right.”

 

“Hmm,” Castiel hummed in thought. “So, if I understand correctly, she has the talent, but it is uncertain how she’ll perform under stress.”

 

“More or less,” Dean confirmed. “We can simulate those conditions to a point. A lot of trainers never do. They throw them out on the track for their first race and that’s the first time they’ve had dirt fly in their face or have another horse bump into them-”

 

“Which is illegal, mind you!” Gabriel interjected.

 

Dean gave a roll of his eyes, “Anyway. It might be beneficial to think about hiring on another jockey if we do pick up some colts so that we can prepare them for an environment similar to race day.”

 

“Uh, I’ll pass, thanks!” Gabriel protested.

 

“I’m not throwing you to the curb,” Dean began, “But if we do get more colts and they all turn out to be successful, it’s not like you can ride all the horses in the same race.”

 

“Watch me! It’ll be the best damn trick I’ve ever done!”

 

“Gabriel, honestly,” Castiel sighed in annoyance. ‘If Dean feels that is best-,”

 

“Oh, so now it’s what _Dean_ feels is best.” The pissed-off expression was what both Castiel and Dean expected, but instead they received a devilish grin and wiggling eyebrows. “What do you find feels best, Dean? My dear bro isn’t really that experienced, and it’s better if you just tell him what it is you like and -,”

 

“Gabriel!” Castiel’s face was completely red in embarrassment. “Please, that is enough.”

 

Gabriel threw his hands up in the air in defeat, “Ok, ok. I’m just trying to be a good brother here and help you out, but I see where I’m not wanted.”

 

Nervously sliding his glasses back up onto his nose Castiel turned back to Dean who had the most amused grin on his face from the situation which only heightened his nerves. “Dean, I was really hoping you could join me for lunch-”

 

“Oh-ho!” Gabriel had begun walking away but fast-tracked it right back in between the owner and trainer. “Look at you, Cassie! I’m so proud of you asking Dean-o out on a date so quickly!”

 

Castiel’s body shrunk in on itself, “No, I-I didn’t-,”

 

“You dog, you,” Gabriel purred in approval.

 

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, blissfully reminded of the days spent with Sam bickering over mindless things. Even if Castiel wasn’t asking him out on a date, there was a big quiver of his heart at the invitation. “It’s ok, Cas, I knew what you meant. I’d be happy to have lunch with you to discuss business.” He might as well step in and help save the poor guy from his brother.

 

“Business! Yes,” Castiel nodded fiercely. “Strictly to discuss business.”

 

“Getting down to business is more like it,” Gabriel cooed as he finally decided to walk away from the two.

 

“I am so sorry,” Castiel spoke, still blushing like a complete virgin. “That was extremely inappropriate of him.”

 

“Don’t sweat it,” Dean smiled, placing an encouraging and lingering hand on the man’s shoulder, “I have a brother, too, you know.” With a gentle squeeze he let his hand fall and shoved it in his pocket. He hoped that Castiel understood what it meant. They continued to walk down to the barn in silence, and Dean feared that either Castiel didn’t understand, or he did not want to act on it, but then he finally decided to speak.

 

“I had initially intended that you simply join us for lunch at the main house, but with Gabriel being on a roll with his antics, I think I’d prefer it if we went somewhere instead.”

 

Dean let out the breath he had been holding. Perfect. Dean didn’t feel comfortable asking his boss out, but if it were the other way around...Granted, he could hear Sammy in his head yelling at him for being attracted to his boss in the first place, but it wasn’t like this was some corporate work place. “Sure, whatever you want, Cas.”

 

“Um,” Castiel stopped in front of the barn. “I don’t exactly...Well. I don’t drive. I mean I can, I just-,”

 

“Well, it’s your lucky day because I have a car and can drive.” And he hoped to fucking God that baby still had enough gas to get them there and back. “What time did you want to go?”

 

“It’s still early yet. Perhaps right at noon?” Castiel suggested.

 

“Sure. That can give me some time to have Gabriel work some of your other horses.”

 

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Castiel gave a soft smile before turning on his heel and heading back to the main house.

 

Noon took a lot longer than Dean would have liked to come along, but Castiel was waiting and ready for him at his house by the Impala right on the dot. “Beautiful car,” he commented. “Impala. What’s the year? ‘67, ‘68?”

 

“Oh, so you know a little something about cars?” Dean asked, impressed, as he opened up the driver’s side door. “‘67,” he answered as he hopped in. Both passengers shut their doors and he lit up the ignition. “How did you get to know that?”

 

“I’m a historian. Was,” he sighed, clearly showing some disappointment that it was no longer the case.

 

“So that’s what you did before you came here?” Dean made his way down the driveway and Castiel pointed to the right.

 

“Yes. I worked for the Smithsonian.”

 

Dean’s eyes lit up, impressed with the fact, “Geez. My brother would have a field day. He’s a huge nerd. The two of you could go at it all day long.”

 

“What is it your brother does?” Castiel inquired.

 

“He’s a hotshot lawyer out in California. Went to Stanford. Got himself a wife,” Dean knew he had a goofy look on his face, but he couldn’t help it when it came to talking about his brother. The kid was definitely his pride and joy.

 

“You sound very proud.”

 

“I am,” he boasted confidently. Looking down at his gas gauge he bit the inside of his lip. This place better not be too far out there. Thankfully, it wasn’t, as Castiel instructed him to pull in to a small but nice cafe.

 

“I’ve never eaten here,” Castiel admitted as they made their way out of the Impala, “but Missouri suggested this side of town for places to go. I hope this is alright.”

 

“It’s fine,” Dean assured. It was more than fine. It was something other than gas station garbage bin leftovers. He just really hoped Castiel had intentions of paying...Dean really wished he could avoid any talk about how he had been homeless prior to being hired on.

 

They got a table for two by a window and ordered their drinks and food. Even though it was a small and rather inexpensive cafe, Dean still felt out of place. Everyone looked a lot like Castiel; nicely dressed and sophisticated. There was definitely nothing but money in the area.

 

Castiel took a sip of his coffee and struck up conversation. “So after your first day with the horses, what are your overall thoughts?”

 

“Well,” Dean wiped his hands on his napkin, “We already know I think Lazarus has a lot of potential. I think all the other horses you have got about a year left of some Grade III and maybe Grade II races. They are in really good shape for how many starts they’ve all had. Anna took good care of all of them, but I still think it’s a good idea to get a few colts in case Lazarus gets hurt or just doesn’t perform.”

 

“No, I agree,” Castiel nodded. “You said you had some in mind?”

 

“There’s two that I really like, and I think if you don’t mind paying for them, we should get them both. There’s French Mistake who has a lot of great sprinters in his bloodline, and then Mystery Spot who has a lot of distance, but also some sprinters. You have a great chance at winning one of the Triple Crown races with those two.” Dean had seen both of the colts in person before, and he had been dying for the longest time to be able to train them, but it wasn’t until now that the possibility seemed real.

 

“If those are the two you want, I have no reason to disagree. I would like to have you present during the dealings. You know more how it is done, and what they are worth me paying.” Castiel took another sip of his coffee and thanked the waitress when she took his plates and asked if he wanted a refill.

 

“Yeah, that’s no problem. I can get you all the contact information when we get back,” Dean smiled, excited to see the deals go through.

 

Castiel cleared his throat and fiddled with the rim of his cup, “I know I said this was a business discussion, but I was rather hoping we could get to know each other a bit further if we are to be partners in this business.”

 

Dean swallowed, uncomfortable with the thought of what his employer could potentially ask, but he nodded anyway. “Sure. Ask away.”

 

“This goes both ways,” Castiel said. “If you have a question, I hope you ask it. May I inquire as to what got you into racing?”

 

“My dad,” Dean answered simply, not feeling a desire to explain it any further. Unfortunately, Castiel wasn’t going to leave it at that.

 

“Yes, I...didn’t mean to overhear, but when you and Bobby reunited in my barn he mentioned something about your father. May I ask what happened?”

 

“No,” Dean replied without hesitation. Dean promptly noticed Castiel flinch at the response and instantly felt regret. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-,”

 

“Nonsense,” Castiel interrupted, “you clearly don’t feel comfortable with the subject and I should not press the issue.”

 

“It’s not...that,” Dean ran a hand across his temple and sighed. “Look, it’s not like you couldn’t find out if you really wanted to know. It’s practically plastered all over the internet. I don’t know how much you knew about me before hiring me on, but I’m considered really bad luck in the racing world.”

 

“Yes, Bobby and Gabriel did mention you’ve had some bad horses of late,” Castiel nodded.

 

“It’s not just that,” Dean groaned. He leaned back against the chair and stared up at the ceiling, contemplating the best way to go about explaining. “My dad was a trainer, too. One of the best of his day. His horse, Michael’s Sword, was horse of the year. Everyone was saying he was going to win the Kentucky Derby and probably the Triple Crown. My dad decided to race him in a stakes race two weeks before the Derby - which was fucking stupid - and the horse had a bad break and got caught up between two other horses. The horse broke its leg and the jockey went down getting trampled underneath the field. Michael had to be euthanized on the track. The jockey was already dead by the time the ambulance got to him.” Dean couldn’t bear to look at Castiel. Instead he focused on the cup that was in between the man’s hands. “Everyone blamed him for the horse and the jockey’s death. No one would hire him and he began drinking really heavily. He got so drunk he turned violent and,” Dean sucked in a shuddered breath and licked his lips, “He got violent with my mom, and she killed herself.”

 

Castiel let a gasp escape his lips. “Dean, I’m so-,”

 

“Save it,” Dean sighed. “For some crazy reason my mom put up with it, still believing he could get past it, but my dad doesn’t give two shits about moving on. If he really wanted to get better he’d get off his ass and check in to a rehab center. Bobby blames himself. He and my dad had always been best friends. He feels like he didn’t do enough to stop it. I don’t blame him, but he still cut himself off from me.” Dean remembered night’s worth of trying to get a hold of Bobby on the phone and never hearing a response. It had killed him thinking he’d never speak to him again. “I really am sorry about Anna.”

 

“Hmm,” Castiel drew out a sigh. “I’m just sorry I did not take more opportunities to meet with her. I was always so involved with my work that I blew off every opportunity to just be with my family, and now she’s gone forever. My father ignored all of us when I was younger, and I did not appreciate it. It turns out I turned out just like him; focused far more on my work than my family.”

 

“Is that why you decided to leave your job to take over the farm? You thought maybe it was a second chance?” Dean asked curiously.

 

“Not a second chance, but rather...a way to redeem myself. I suppose, if redemption is even possible,” Castiel let his gaze fall as he took the final sip of his coffee. “I loved my job. I already miss it dearly, but I realized that they could easily find someone just as qualified as me to fill my shoes if I were to leave. If I decided to abandon the farm, I would completely destroy people’s lives; Bobby, Charlie, Gabriel, Missouri...you.”

 

Dean’s eyes locked with Castiel’s. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. “Cas...you didn’t have to feel obligated-,”

 

“I did not decide to stay until after I had already hired you on,” Castiel admitted. “I realized that if I left and sold the farm, youmost likely would not be held on as trainer. I just...I couldn’t do it.”

 

“Cas,” Dean felt himself choking up. He had never had a boss care anything about his own well being. “I...you’ve changed my life. You’ve changed everything. As selfish as it sounds I’m glad you decided to stay.”

 

Castiel let his lips curl into a smile. “I could say the same for you. I called countless of trainers, and not one for them would even meet with meet face-to-face. If it weren’t for you, I would have given up and gone home regardless. You took a chance on someone who knew nothing about horses.”

 

“And you took a chance on a loser who can’t win a horse race,” Dean chuckled. “I guess we are even.”

 

“Indeed,” Castiel agreed. Taking in a deep breath Castiel grabbed the check and pulled out his credit card. “I believe we have some horses to buy, then?”

 

Dean nodded, a heavy weight suddenly lifted off his shoulders. “Let’s do it.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean had been fairly impressed with how Castiel handled the business aspect of the sales regarding Mystery Spot and French Mistake. Mystery was located in northern Virginia and French in Maryland, so Castiel organized meetings with the owners only a day apart. Dean hooked up the trailer and they took a few days to drive out there, leaving a detailed regiment for Gabriel and Charlie to follow in his absence. Castiel understood that Dean would be able to field a lot of the questions about the horses, but ultimately the sale would come down to him. The drive up had left plenty of time for him to lay down what the two colts were worth and how to haggle.

 

Castiel had managed to pay exactly what Dean had instructed; not a dollar more and not a dollar less. Dean found out on the drive back that Castiel had often dealt with private sellers in artifacts and had experience in the matter. It seemed that every day Castiel surprised him.

 

Mystery was a chestnut, very tall, and very ill-mannered. He wasn’t what Dean would call mean, but he was...sneaky. Somehow, he felt that Gabriel and that colt would get along very well. Frenchie was a beautiful grey, and Dean had great luck betting on the greys. He was smaller and had a bit of a Napoleon complex. The colt was very proud.

 

Once the two colts had been given a few days to settle in, Dean began their training. As expected, they both exceeded expectations and gave him reason to believe they could both be winners. The topic of another jockey surfaced in the break room, much to Gabriel’s dismay.

 

“I already told you I could ride more than one horse in the Derby,” Gabriel stated. “It is completely unnecessary for you to hire on someone else.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes in frustration. He had dealt with a lot of self-centered jockeys in his day, but Gabriel was by far the worst. “I’m not going to keep them from reaching their full potential just so you can ride all three of them. If more than one of them gets a post in a race, I promise to let you have your pick of who you ride.

 

Gabriel’s arms were crossed so tightly around his body Dean thought he might cut himself in two. “Fine, but I choose who we bring in.”

 

“Ah, no.” Dean frowned. “That’s not how this works, buddy. I’m the one who employs the jockeys around here.”

 

“Then we don’t have a deal.”

 

“I don’t need to make a fucking deal,” Dean snapped, feeling himself reach the end of his patience rope. “I’m the trainer and what I say goes.”

 

“Well you can take your other jockey and shove it up your-,”

 

“Gabriel!”

 

All heads whipped around to see an angry Castiel standing at the door with a frightful Charlie behind him. Dean guessed that the groom had just about had enough of the bickering going on between the two and fetched the only person who could deal with it.

 

“May I have a word?” Castiel asked, jaw clenched and body tense.

 

“Sure,” Gabriel responded, but made no effort to move from his spot at the table.

 

“In private?” Castiel specified.

 

“You asked for a word, and I provided it,” the jockey shrugged, the smirk on his face taunting them.

 

“Jesus fucking christ!” Dean groaned, throwing his hands in the air. He had had enough. With a fierce scowl he flung the door open so that it slammed against  
the back wall and walked out. Castiel’s voice called out to him, but he refused to turn around until he felt fingers wrap around his wrist and tug. Spinning around he saw Castiel standing here, eyes wide with fear behind the glasses.

 

“Please don’t go,” he begged, not releasing his hold on Dean’s wrist. “I’m so sorry about Gabriel, please don’t let him get to you like this!”

 

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Gabriel groaned as he poked his head out of the break room towards the two gentlemen in the aisle of the barn. “I was just joking. I really don’t care if you hire another jockey. You honestly think I was the only one Anna kept around this place? Please.” He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his long strands of hair. “God, Cassie, you would have thought your boyfriend just broke up with you or something. Try not to look so pathetic next time.”

 

Dean glared at Gabriel as the jockey strutted away and tried to make the anger within him subside. One look at Castiel’s face managed to do just that. It was true; Castiel had looked mortified when Dean walked away. “Sorry, I...he’s really irritating.”

 

“Yes,” Castiel nodded, snapping his hand back to his side. “I do apologize Dean. I would completely understand if you felt the need to fire my brother.” Licking his lips Castiel lowered his chin and directed his gaze towards the dirt.

 

With a labored sigh and a rub to his temple Dean shook his head. “I couldn’t do that. For one, the asshole is really good on the back of a horse. Two, he’s your brother. He’s family. He’s just really, _really_ , annoying.”

 

Castiel hummed in agreement and finally met Dean’s eyes again. “Lunch?”

 

Dean felt a smile creep on his lips at the offer, but his gut was falling in panic. The Impala would barely make it to the nearest gas station, and he wasn’t slated to be paid until the end of the week. There would be no way they would make it to any kind of restaurant, but he still found himself nodding and responded with an, “Absolutely.” Castiel’s face lit up and Dean couldn’t help but feel his heart sink further into some sort of pit. “I, uh, I just need to go speak with Bobby real quick about the horses and I’ll be right out to the car, ok?”

 

“Of course,” Castiel nodded with bright eyes.

 

Shit, shit, shit. Dean prayed Bobby was still in the workshop in behind the barn working on new shelving for the feed room. When he rounded the corner and saw the plaid clad older man, he breathed out a sigh of a relief. “Bobby.”

 

“Dean,” Bobby acknowledged without looking away from his work. “I could hear your argument with Gabriel from the next pasture over.”

 

Dean ignored the comment and instead gave the man a pleading look. “I need to borrow some money. I don’t need much, I just need like $10 to fill my tank. I get paid on Friday and I promise to pay you back-,”

 

“Boy,” Bobby sighed and set his tools down so that he could reach into his back pocket for his wallet. “You ain’t gotta beg.” Pulling out a $20 bill he offered it to the trainer. “And I don’t need you to pay me back, either. The way I see it, I owe you a lot more than that.”

 

Dean hesitated, but he took the proffered money. “Thanks, Bobby. I promise I’m going to pay you back.”

 

“That ain’t for a bottle of Jack, is it?” His eyes narrowed accusingly.

 

“I wish,” he huffed. “Castiel asked me to lunch again, and I have absolutely no gas left in my baby to get us there.”

 

Bobby lifted a questioning eyebrow. “The two of you sure do spend a lot of time with one another.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes as he pocketed the bill, “Business talks, Bobby.”

 

“Son, I wasn’t born yesterday,” he responded. “I’ve got eyes and ears. Get goin’ before I change my mind.”

 

“Thanks, Bobby!” Dean waved as he darted back out and around the barn to his house where the Impala was parked. Castiel was patiently leaning against the passenger side door for him. “Sorry, I’m good to go.”

 

“I was thinking a burger joint I saw off of Jillian’s Trail, what do you think?” Castiel inquired as he settled into the leather seat. “I hear they have good pie.”

 

A huge grin splayed out across Dean’s face from ear-to-ear. “I love me some pie.”

 

/*/

 

Gabriel let out a hideous belch as he finished the last swig of his drink causing the usual disgusted reactions from the barn crew. “That was good enough I think I need round two.”

 

“You most certainly don’t,” Missouri objected. “You keep eating the way you do and they won’t let you on the back of those horses come race day.”

 

“Come on!” Gabriel whined, “Race season doesn’t start for another four months! I’ve got plenty of time until I have to worry about it.”

 

“I’m fairly certain the horses would disagree with you,” Charlie smiled as she allowed Missouri to fill her plate with a second helping.

 

Gabriel scowled, “Bitch.”

 

The red-head shrugged, “Hey, you’re the one who chose to be a jockey. You should have been a trainer instead.”

 

“Oh, yeah, then I could shack up with all my bosses,” he gave an amused snort as he poured himself another drink.

 

“Those boys go off to lunch again?” Missouri asked. “I’m starting to think they don’t like my cooking.”

 

“Aww, Missouri, no one could ever hate your cooking,” Gabriel purred. “They just need some _alone_ time, if you catch my drift.” The man wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

 

“I think it’s adorable,” Charlie grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. “Our very own barn romance. It’s like real life fan-fiction.”

 

“If those idjits think they are being subtle, they’ve got another thing coming,” Bobby huffed as he turned the page of the paper he was reading.

 

“Please, those two are too busy eye-fucking one another to even realize what’s going on between themselves,” Gabriel said as he swirled the liquid around in his glass thoughtfully. He was starting to think himself a god for practically calling this. The jockey couldn’t help but tease them both the moment they set eyes on one another. He had always known Castiel’s preference for men, and even he could appreciate Dean’s good looks. There was absolutely no way, however, he could have predicted Dean would play ball for the same side. It was almost too perfect.

 

“And this doesn’t bother any of you, the two of them?” Missouri asked with a raised eyebrow as she began doing the dishes.

 

“Nope,” Gabriel responded simply. His brother had sacrificed a lot to come out there and be with them, despite the fact Gabriel had practical guilt tripped him into it. If rubbing dicks with Dean Winchester is what made him happy, then that was fine by him.

 

“I’ve known Dean a long time,” Bobby began, “And if there’s one thing for sure I know about that kid it’s that once he makes up his mind it’s game over, no matter how idiotic it is. And being involved with your boss is idiotic. I ain’t condoning it, but I ain’t saying anything against it either.”

 

“Charlie probably wants to beat off to the sounds of them screwing each other,” Gabriel grinned in the direction of the groomer.

 

“I thought you swung for the other side,” Bobby frowned over the top of his paper.

 

“I do,” she nodded, “But just because I don’t want to have a dick in my vagina doesn’t mean I can’t heavily appreciate boys loving boys.”

 

“Alright, enough,” Missouri demanded. “I won’t have this kind of foul talk in my kitchen. Gabriel, don’t you have somewhere else to be then stinking up the place?”

 

“Consider this penance for not giving me seconds, woman,” he responded playfully. Gabriel’s favorite past-time was getting a rouse out of everyone he possibly could. The only person who had successfully turned him down was Charlie; the woman just seemed to turn everything right back around on him. Missouri gave him a cold stare that he felt to his bone, and decided maybe this time he would pass. “Oh, alright. I’m going.”

 

Slipping on his shoes at the front door he ventured on out into the outside world once again. As he made his way closer to the barn he noticed the Impala parked once more outside Dean’s house.  Curious, Gabriel strode up towards it. There was no one in it. Peeking through the back window he noticed bunched up linens underneath the back of the passenger seat. Squinting, he tried to make out what it was until he caught the travel-sized pillow buried underneath. The realization hit him all too well. Dean had been sleeping in his car prior to being hired on here.

 

Gabriel had had to do the same thing when he was first starting out. Anna didn’t have her business yet, and he had not made a name for himself. Yes, he knew it all too well. It wasn’t really much of a surprise to him considering all the stories surrounding the trainer in the racing world. With a frown he scooted away from the car as to not get caught and headed back to the barn. Kansas needed to be breezed.

 

Dean had set a routine at the barn that Gabriel kind of liked, and the end of the week came in a blip. That afternoon as he finished putting his gear away he found Dean waving a piece of paper in front of him. “What’s that?”

 

“Pay day,” the trainer smiled and handed a check to the jockey. With a pat on the back he added, “Don’t spend it all at once,” and then he was gone.

 

Gabriel looked down and his golden eyes widened at the number presented in front of him. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t even close to being right. Heading towards the desk he grabbed for his binder where he logged all his rides and calculated his fees based on what his average pay was. Yup. The number on the check was exceedingly too much money.

 

“Hey,” Charlie called as she walked in, staring at her own check. “Has Dean paid you, yet? This isn’t right.”

 

“He grossly overpay you, too?” Charlie walked up to him and handed him her check. Jesus. Gabriel knew what Castiel paid Dean - not because he was told, but because he’s a nosy fucker - and he knew that with what he paid Charlie and himself, Den would have ended up with close to nothing.

 

“I even saw him try and pay Bobby,” she mentioned. “I know I really shouldn’t complain about extra money, but this is more than just a few dollars.”

 

It was very rare that Gabriel ever felt guilt about anything, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to escape the guilt if he took this money, especially knowing Dean’s situation. “I’ll go talk to him. Have you seen him lately?”

 

Charlie nodded, “He was headed back home.”

 

“Ok, I’ll go talk to him.” Gabriel handed Charlie back her check and stuffed his own into his back pocket while he made a B-line to the house. With more gusto than he normally would have given, he knocked on the door.

 

Dean was prompt in answering, and there was a look of surprise on his face to see Gabriel there. “Is something wrong with the horses?”

 

“No,” Gabriel responded, inviting himself in and brushing past his boss.

 

“Well, just come on in,” Dean responded sarcastically as he shut the door behind him. “What can I do for you?”

 

Gabriel whipped out the check and thrust it towards Dean. “I think you need to check your math, Dean-o. It’s not right.”

 

Dean didn’t even bother looking at the piece of paper as he handed it right back to Gabriel. “It’s right.”

 

Gabriel wasn’t going to play this stupid ass game. “I’m going to cut right to the chase. I know what everyone here makes, including you. If it weren’t for the bloodstock fees on Frenchie and Mystery, you’d make absolutely zero profit after you finished paying me and Charlie. What gives?” He had expected an immediate answer from the trainer, but it was obvious that Dean had not been prepared for anyone questioning their pay.

 

“Look, just-,” he paused and swallowed. “Would you just take the damn money and not bitch about it?”

 

“No, I won’t, because one; I like to bitch, and two; I know you have been living out of your car.” Dean’s shocked expression told him all he needed to know. “Castiel is far too naive to notice, but I did. I saw the blankets in the backseat and I haven’t even been in your car. I also noticed you wearing the same clothes over and over because that’s all you’ve got. I’ve been in your shoes, and I know what it’s like to have nothing.”

 

Dean’s jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. “You have no fucking idea what it’s like to be in my shoes.”

 

Gabriel gave a snort, “We all have daddy issues, Dean. At least you had your dad in your life. Ours never gave two shits about us, and he sure as hell didn’t show up to Anna’s funeral. I knew everything there was to know about you before Castiel even knew your name, and I chose not to say a word about it,” he admitted.

 

Dean rolled his eyes, “If you are wanting to hold it as blackmail over me, save it. I already told Cas about my dad and what happened.”

 

“Oh, so he knows about your alcohol and gambling problems that have gotten you arrested and thrown out of some tracks?” Dean’s face went red. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So, what? You thought by giving away all your money it would prevent you from placing bets and buying bottles of liquor?”

 

“Shut up,” Dean growled threateningly, his fists flexing. “It’s not that, Christ. Look, I’m not exactly great at showing emotions. I don’t do chick-flick moments. Paying you and Charlie extra money is the only way I know how to show appreciation.”

 

Gabriel blinked, caught by surprise. Then he pulled a face. “Ugh,” Gabriel grumbled. “This is worse than I could have ever thought, then.” All the UST between his boss and brother would just continue on at this rate. He might need to call in the cavalry for this one. “Look. I appreciate your...appreciation. But you don’t need to take care of us. Castiel takes care of us, and you should let him take care of you, too. He will, if you just let him.” Gabriel took the check and ripped it up into four pieces. “Write another check, and pay me what you owe, not what you think I deserve. Do the same for Charlie.”

 

Dean nodded. “Gabriel?”

 

“Yeah?” The jockey asked, pausing in his reach for the door handle.

 

“Thanks. For not telling Cas.”

 

Gabriel felt pity for the man in front of him. “It’s not my place to say. You’re a good trainer, Dean. Most trainers run the horses rabid just to make an extra day’s worth of pay. The fact that you put their needs first is good enough for me. Just don’t hurt my brother, Dean. I will not let you be thrown out of a track or shoved in the back of a police car in front of him.” Not giving another word he opened the door and made his exit. He needed to talk to his brother.

 

Castiel was at the office desk as usual, with the biggest scowl on his face directed towards the computer monitor. “Did Anna have any sort of financial advisor?” he asked as Gabriel entered without a word and made himself comfortable. “These numbers are making no sense to me.”

 

“Whoa, there, tiger. Don’t hurt yourself,” Gabriel chuckled. “Frank’s number should be around here somewhere. That’s usually who Anna went to for that sort of stuff. Look, we need to talk about Dean.”

 

Gabriel did not miss the eye roll he got from his brother. “What has he done to upset you now, Gabriel?”

 

Propping his feet on the edge of Castiel’s desk he threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. “He gave his entire paycheck to me and Charlie.”

 

“And this bothers you?” Castiel’s brow knit together in confusion.

 

“Yes!” He exclaimed. “It doesn’t bother you?”

 

Castiel spun his chair so that he was facing his brother. “What Dean does with his money is none of my business, Gabriel.”

 

“The guy doesn’t have a selfish bone in his body. He worries far too much about other people and not enough about himself.” He had swung his legs down and was leaning up against the desk.

 

“Gabriel, I do realize the concept of selflessness is foreign to you-,”

 

“He lived in his car, Castiel!” Gabriel blurted out. “How did you not notice the blankets and pillow in the back of his car?” Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “Fuck, I told him I wouldn’t tell you…Thanks a lot for making me a liar!”

 

Castiel sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly, then looked away. “I suspected, but I thought it best not to mention. If it were me, that is not a fact I would want publicized.”

 

“Jesus,” Gabriel sat back and crossed his arms. “The least he could do is buy himself some new clothes.” The sudden change of his brother’s expression worried him. “What-No. You are not thinking what I think you are thinking.”

 

“What size do you think he wears?” Castiel asked as he swerved back to his computer and began typing away furiously.

 

“Nope! We are not having this conversation!” Gabriel quickly pushed himself out of his seat and headed out the door. Those two were absolutely ridiculous.

 

/*/

 

Dean let himself fall back onto his bed with an accomplished sigh. The week was done and training had gone exceptionally. Mystery was the only one of the three two-year-olds that made a grand fuss over the starting gates. Lazarus was continuing to get faster and already Dean was making notes of what races to run her in come November. Charlie and Gabriel both bitched that their paychecks were still too high, but they accepted it without too much of a fight.

 

Dean sat back up and began shucking off his clothes when there was a knock on the door. Throwing on a t-shirt he walked over and opened it to reveal Castiel standing there with a stack of boxes in his arms. “Whoa, let me help you there,” Dean grabbed at half of the stack and let Castiel come in. “What’s all this.”

 

“It’s for you,” Castiel explained as he set his stack down on the kitchen table. Choosing one of the boxes he handed it to Dean to open, “Here.”

 

Dean was skeptical, but opened the top of the box to see several brand new polo shirts folded neatly. “Cas...what is this?” He pulled one out and unfolded it to see the farm’s logo embroidered on the chest.

 

“I do realize that you are not exclusive to this farm, and should anyone else ask you to train their horses you are welcome to do so at anytime. However, as long as you continue to train my horses you will be considered part of this family.” Castiel gave a warm smile, but it quickly turned upside down. “I do hope they fit.”

 

Dean gave a muffled laugh as he bit down on his inner cheek to keep himself from crying. “Thanks, Cas. This means a lot.”

 

Castiel’s face radiated satisfaction. “Good. You’ll join me for lunch tomorrow? Gabriel mentioned something about changing the design of our silks. He doesn’t want another year of wearing pink and teal.”

 

“Yeah, I bet,” Dean gave an amused twitch of his lips. “Sure. Lunch.”

 

“Tomorrow, then,” Castiel nodded. “Good night, Dean.”

 

“Night, Cas.” Dean watched as Castiel made his leave. There couldn’t be polos in every one of these boxes. As he opened each box he felt his heart clench tighter and tighter and a lump form in his throat. One box held various pastel dress shirts and slacks, while another held two nice sport coats. The last box had a few pairs of jeans and an honest to god leather belt. Laying on top of the slacks was a card for a tailor in case the items needed adjustments.

 

With a shuddered breath Dean took a seat on his bed in shock. A single tear fell from his right eye. No one had bought him anything other than Sam since he was little. Sam. Wiping the tear off his cheek he reached for his phone and pulled up his brother’s number. It rang long enough Dean feared it might go to voicemail, but at the last second he heard the familiar voice.

 

“ _Dean?_ ”

 

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean responded, a small hiccup in his words.

 

“ _Sorry about that, I was finishing up a meeting._ ”

 

Oh. “Is uh, now a bad time?”

 

 _“No, no! What’s going on?_ ”

 

“I’m in Kentucky,” Dean smiled.

 

_“Kentucky?! I thought you were in Virginia working with Rufus?”_

 

“Yeah, I was, but I got another offer, and Rufus wasn’t paying me shit anyway. You know how it is.”

 

_“Well, that’s great, right? Do you like it?”_

 

“I love it, Sam,” he breathed. “The property is beautiful and the horses are awesome. I really think I might have a winner here, Sammy.”

 

“ _Dean, that’s great! I guess that means you won’t be able to come out here anytime soon, will it?”_ There was definite disappointment in his brother’s voice.

 

“No,” Dean agreed, “but I swear if I make it to the Derby you and Jess will have a spot right there next to me in the stands.”

 

_“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”_

 

“You won’t guess who else works here. Bobby.”

 

There was a shuffling noise, like Sam had almost dropped his phone. _“Wait, Bobby?! Are you joking? How is he?!”_

 

“Great,” Dean laughed, “Everything’s just great. We, uh, we talked, you know? Everything’s good. It’s real good. The owner’s name is Castiel, and he doesn’t know jack shit about horses, but the guy has the biggest heart, man.” Dean could feel his smile grow the more he talked, “He takes me to lunch almost every day, and he’s always asking questions. He wants to learn. Oh, and get this - he used to work for the Smithsonian. The two of you could totally geek out.”

 

There was a pause on the other end of the line. _“Dean, are we talking about your boss or your girlfriend here?”_ The words were laced with amusement.

 

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean scowled.

 

_“No way, Jerk. I’m happy for you Dean, I really am. You sound so good. Uh, listen. I’m about to get in the car, I’ll talk to you soon?”_

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Drive safe.” Dean ended the call and fell back to the bed with a smile. Yes, things were indeed finally looking up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Training with the two-year-olds had been progressing so well over the past month, Dean decided it was time to take them to a full track. Keenland was Lexington’s local racetrack, and he would be able to simulate race day environments much better at the track rather than in their bullring. There would be other horses around and the turns wouldn’t be as tight. 

Dean was also meeting their new jockey there to ease the workload off of Gabriel. The older of the two Novak brothers would never admit to it, but Dean could tell he was getting a little stressed out riding the two-year-olds and the other four and five-year-olds at the barn. Garth Fitzgerald IV had ridden for Dean a couple of years ago, and the tiny jockey was good… but he was extremely weird. 

Garth was waiting by the stalls Dean had rented for the week, just as he was instructed to do; his face lit up like a Christmas tree when he spotted the trainer and he had his arms wrapped around the larger man quicker than anyone could blink. “Dean! It’s so good to see you again!”

Dean’s body tensed up with a heavy frown, but he knew there was no running from Garth’s hugs. “Uh, yeah, that’s enough.”

“And Gabriel!” Garth went to hug the other jockey, but Gabriel held out a hand that pressed right against Garth’s forehead as he approached.

“Not today, buddy,” Gabriel huffed, but it did little to sway Garth as he ducked under and curled around Gabriel’s waist. Dean couldn’t help but smirk when he saw that Gabriel was giving Dean a bitch-face that rivaled his brother on the best of days. 

Garth’s attention then turned towards Castiel who received the biggest hug of them all. “It’s an honor to ride your horses!”

Castiel removed his glasses and began wiping the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. “Dean speaks highly of you.”

It was very difficult for Dean to keep his eyes from rolling. If that was how Castiel wanted to word it, fine, but that was hardly what it was. Garth and Gabriel were a lot alike to Dean in the fact that he definitely did not keep them around for personality. At least he knew Garth wouldn’t purposely piss him off, just reach mild aggravation. “Ok, I think we’ve all done introductions. Charlie, our groom, is getting the horses off the trailer and settled in. Today is going to be an easy three furlongs to get them used to everything. I want Mystery and Lazarus to run together and then Frenchie and Kansas. Garth, you’ll be riding Mystery and Kansas. I want you to use Kansas more as a pacer horse; lose on purpose. He’s been there, done that, but Frenchie needs a little confidence booster.”

Garth nodded in understanding, “Ok, no problem, but what about Mystery?”

“No, no,” Dean shook his head, “Let him go. Treat it like a real race. I have a pretty good feeling they’ll thrive off of the competition.”

“Okidoki, then,” Garth grinned. “I’ll grab my saddle!”

Gabriel mimicked gagging motions as Garth walked away. “Out of all the goddamn jockeys, Dean-o.”

“He’s...nice,” Castiel offered, unsure of the correct word to use to describe the man.

“He wins. That’s all that we should care about,” Dean pulled out some sort of brochure and a pencil from his pocket. “I’m going to go watch the other workouts. I’ll meet you and Garth at the gate,” Dean spoke in the direction of Gabriel.

“May I join you?” Castiel asked.

Dean gave a nod and motioned for the other man to walk with them as they talked. “This will be our first glance at the competition. A lot of good racehorses come out of Kentucky, and we will be sure to see some of these same horses down the line.”

Castiel quickened his pace to match Dean’s and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Is there anyone in particular that concerns you?”

Dean gave a snort and found his eyes wandering the crowd much more than before, “I can name a few.” There was someone in particular that Dean knew stabled in the area that concerned him greatly, but all he could do was pray they would not cross paths. Finding a comfortable spot on the rail he began scanning the various horses, jockeys, and trainers that were at work. There were plenty that he recognized. Pulling the cap off his pen with his teeth he began to scribble notes down on his pad. 

Castiel peered over his shoulder going far beyond the boundary for personal space. “What is it you are looking for?”

“Scoping out the competition, Cas,” Dean answered as if it were obvious. “Until some of these two-year-olds race, this is the only information you get.”

“I understand the concept, but I don’t understand what information you could gain from this,” he responded. Even though he backed up off of Dean’s shoulder, he was still standing unusually close. 

“Well, the obvious one is their speed,” Dean began. “I can keep track of times to determine who is a speed horse and who can take the distance. If a distance horse breaks to the front early, then I know we’ve got to chase them. If a speed horse breaks to the front and it’s a longer race, then I know to sit back and relax. They’ll die out before the home stretch. It’s also important to know what horses belong to what trainers. Knowing how other trainers work can teach you a lot about the horse. Same goes for jockeys. Jockeys all have a style of riding and you can predict how they’ll ride their race.”

“This means other trainers are checking you out as well,” Castiel’s eyes narrowed in a squint and he cocked his head ever so slightly.

Dean smirked at the open door left by Castiel, “I like to think it’s because of my perky nipples.” Castiel’s sudden change in expression caused for an amused eye roll from Dean. “It’s a joke, Cas. You know...checking me out.”

“Oh.”

Shaking his head Dean turned back to the track to make more notes. Gabriel and Garth brought Lazarus and Mystery up first. “Three furlongs. Take them to the ⅜-pole and then let them loose. We’ll be waiting at the finish line.”

“You got it, boss,” Garth gave a thumbs up as he coaxed Mystery up to a trot.

Gabriel quickly followed after him on Lazarus. “Get ready to eat my dust.”

“I’m really excited to see how they do,” Charlie beamed as she settled in next to Dean and Castiel on the rail. 

Dean pulled out his stopwatch and kept a close eye on the horses as they made their way closer to the pole. “Is it wrong of me to hope Lazarus wins?”

Charlie grinned and shook her head, “Nope. You’ve fallen for her just as much as Anna had.”

“She’s got spunk, that’s for sure,” Dean had to agree. He was never known for following expectations, so why bother to start now? Trying to run a filly in the Derby was as far from the beaten path as he could drive. His thumb pressed down on the start button as the two horses took off at full speed. Mystery led around the turn by a head, but Dean watched as Gabriel flicked his whip twice and Lazarus began pounding into the dirt and began pulling away from Mystery. The stopwatch hit time as her nose extended just past the finish line half a length in front of Mystery.

“Go Laz!” Charlie cheered. 

“Was her time good?” Castiel questioned his face just as bright with excitement as Charlie’s.

“12.2,” Dean announced with a twinge of excitement. He opened his mouth to begin explaining the details to his boss, but a slow clap pounded its way into his ears from behind. Turning around, Dean felt a sickening chill run down his spine as he caught sight of the last person on Earth he’d ever want to see.

“Bravo,” the man spoke with a British drawl. “It seems that Dean Winchester has found something other than a circus pony to train. Both two-year-olds, I take it?” He strode up to them, dressed in all black and exuding an arrogant confidence.

“It’s none of your fucking business,” Dean scowled. “Don’t you have your own horses to attend to, Crowley?”

“Tsk, tsk, Dean,” Crowley shook his head with mock disappointment, “You should watch your mouth in front of company. Speaking of, you are…?” The man’s cold eyes turned towards Castiel.

“Also none of your fucking business,” Dean snapped as he positioned himself between the two. 

Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder and with a gentle squeeze moved him out of the way. “My name is Castiel Novak. I took over Anna Milton’s farm.” He offered his hand in greeting, but the other man did not take it.

“Anna Milton?” Crowley laughed. “The same Anna that thought she could win big with fillies?”

“One and the same, and that horse you just applauded was a filly,” Dean spoke proudly. “How is it going to feel when your horses get whooped by a girl?”

“I imagine about the same as it was when you got your ass handed to you by the police at Del Mar,” he shrugged. Dean’s face flushed red in anger, and as his gaze snapped over to Castiel, he saw the blue-eyed man frowning at him great confusion. “Oh, bollocks,” Crowley spoke with a false surprise. “So sorry, Castiel, I thought you would have known Dean was banned from several tracks. Well, I suppose I should leave you two to discuss that then, shouldn’t I? Toodles.” He smirked as he turned on his heel and began walking away along the rail of the track.

Dean felt the sudden need to just run. To run far away from it all, away from this role he’d been playing – because who was he kidding? He couldn’t train winners, not anymore. Crumpling up his notes, he tossed it into the stands and began walking away with purpose without a second look at Castiel. A wave of panic washed over him when Castiel’s reaction kept playing on repeat through his head. If there hadn’t been reason to get rid of him before, there certainly was now; he would save Castiel the excuses and make it easier on both of them by just going – Dean didn’t think he could handle seeing the disappointment and revulsion in Castiel’s eyes. Passing by their stalls, he grabbed for his folder of paperwork and made towards the track exit - but a hand wrapped itself firmly around his own, pulling him back. 

“Dean,” Castiel breathed through pants. “Please, stop.”

“Let me go, Cas,” Dean pleaded. “You don’t want me here. I’m bad news.” He shook his head to try, an image lingering behind his eyelids. “I saw how you looked when Crowley told you I’d been arrested.”

“It’s not,” Castiel began, but then stopped as if he were at a loss for words. “I wish you would have told me from the beginning. This will keep us from running the horses in certain events.” Dean turned away from Castiel. “I’m not angry, I was just surprised. It was something I should have heard from you and not some other trainer.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean swallowed hard, “I’m a curse, Cas. You deserve better than that.”

“Maybe so,” Castiel agreed from behind him, “But when it comes down to the horses you show greater care than any other trainer I’ve spoken with. I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

There wasn’t a hint of pity or disappointment in the words – only complete sincerity. 

Dean had to bite at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying out. Bringing a hand up to rub at his mouth he turned so that he was facing his boss; Castiel was staring at him with eyes that seemed to pierce right down to his very soul. “Why? Why would you want me, Cas?”

Castiel crossed his arms, rubbing at his biceps, and took a step forward. “Dean, we cannot escape our past. It will continue to chase us as long as we live. It doesn’t define who we are; it’s how we deal with it when it finally catches up that matters. You never gave up, Dean. I suppose it’s not just the part of you that is a trainer that I like.” 

Castiel took a step forward, close enough Dean could feel the heat radiating off of the other man’s body; his jaw relaxing in anticipation as he felt Castiel’s fingertips run up his forearms, their lips about to touch.

“HEY!”

Dean jerked away from Castiel at the sound of Gabriel’s voice. He was walking up on Lazarus with Garth and Charlie at his heels. With a muffled cough he and Castiel furthered the distance between themselves. “Hey,” he said, shuffling awkwardly and turning to face the jockey, “sorry about that.”

“I saw Crowley,” Gabriel mentioned as he hopped off Lazarus and handed her off to Charlie. “What the hell did that great big bag of dicks say?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean shook his head, begging he did not push any further on the issue. “Laz’s time was awesome, that’s all there is to know.”

“Hmph,” Gabriel frowned. “Everyone Crowley surrounds himself with is a complete asshole.”

“Is he any good?” Castiel inquired.

“Good?” Charlie scoffed from inside Lazarus’s stall as she untacked the filly. “He’s great. He trains for Azazel and Lilith. Those two are some of the most wealthy people in all of America. Azazel is out of California, and Lilith out of New York; he’s got complete control of both coasts because of it. Crowley’s favorite jockey is Alistair, and he’s ruthless.”

“He fouls other jockeys on a daily basis and gets away with it every single time,” Gabriel growled. 

“Well,” Castiel pushed his glasses up his nose, “I don’t care how much money the man has or who he works for. We have the better horses and we will prove it on the track.”

“As nice as it is for you to be so confident, I have a lot of concerns about his favorite two-year-old,” Gabriel gave a worrisome frown. 

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed off of the barn wall he was resting against. “Is the colt here?”

“Oh yeah,” Garth nodded as he stored his helmet and vest. “You can’t miss him.”

All five members of the gang made their way back to the track as soon as soon as Charlie had taken the tack off of Lazarus and Mystery. Dean scanned the track for a horse that looked threatening. He knew exactly the horse he was looking for when his green eyes locked on. “Jesus,” he breathed. 

“That’s him,” Gabriel nodded. “Morningstar A-K-A Lucifer. He’s got lines tracing back to War Admiral and Man o’ War.” 

“No shit,” Dean mumbled, still in complete awe at the colt that strutted at over 18 hands. He was solid black with muscles that rippled in the sunlight. There was no fear in that colt, just pure power. 

“He’s very big,” Castiel noticed, “but he is still as unproven as our horses on the track.”

“Well ain’t ignorance just a big ball of bliss,” Gabriel cackled. Then with a sigh that was more like groan he rested his chin on top of his hands on the railing. “Rest assured that if we do make it to the Derby with one of our horses, it’ll be against him.”

“Alright, you guys are making me feel suicidal right about now,” Dean interjected, the mood far too solemn for his liking. “Go get Kansas and Frenchie and if Alistair is out there, just ignore him. I don’t need the two of you starting shit.” With complaints uttered under their breaths, the two jockeys and groom left Castiel and Dean alone. Dean could feel the tension slice through the air between him and Castiel, but he couldn’t even begin to know what to say. Thankfully, Castiel did not offer up any suggestions and they stood there silently as they waited.

Kansas and Frenchie did not school to the same tune as Laz and Mystery, but Dean was far from disappointed. He had a gut feeling that Frenchie wouldn’t race longer than seven furlongs, but there was money to be had in sprinting races. The track was close enough to home that they could leave the horses stabled there while they slept in their own beds; satisfied with the day’s work, the team packed into the truck and headed back to the farm.

Missouri greeted them with perfectly grilled steaks and an aromatic homemade apple pie had Dean sliding right out of his seat. When Gabriel tried to sneak an extra slice, Missouri slapped him across the face with the serving spoon. “Don’t think I didn’t see that!”

“Oh, come on!” Gabriel whined.

“You gotta stay lean and mean, man,” Garth laughed as he placed his dishes in the sink. Garth lived in the area and had other horses that he rode, but he couldn’t turn down the offer from Castiel to join them for dinner.

“Mo’ fo’ me,” Dean grinned with a full mouth, reaching for the entire remaining plate of pie and placing it in front of himself. 

Missouri gave him a kind smile, “It’s about time someone appreciated me around here. Oh, that reminds me. Castiel, the new silks came in today. I put them on your desk. They look mighty fine; clean and crisp.”

“Les go ‘ee!” Dean exclaimed as he got out of his chair with his plate in hand and another bite shoved into his mouth. 

Castiel led them to his office where the box was sitting. Reaching in he pulled out the jockey silk and gasps filled the room. “They look much better in person.” he hummed approvingly, lifting each item from the box with a pleased expression.

Laying it across the desk he let everyone marvel at them. The tops were almost solid black with the farm crest in white across the chest, and each arm had a thick band of white around the bicep. Reaching back in the box he pulled out matching racing hoods for the horses.

“These are way better than what we had,” Gabriel beamed. “Good job, Cassie. I’m impressed.”

“They are very sleek,” Charlie agreed, “but I will say Anna’s design was more colorful.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t the gay parade, Charlie,” Gabriel responded, earning a wiggle of her tongue at him. 

“I hate to just run out on ya, but I think I’m going to head on home. I’ll be out at the track bright and early,” Garth spoke.

“Yeah, ok, no problem,” Dean acknowledged. Gabriel and Charlie filed out behind him, once again leaving him and Castiel alone. “So,” he began, “I never asked, but what exactly is the symbol Anna chose for the farm?”

“Ah, the Aquarian star, or also known as the Unicursal Hexagram. It was a popular symbol amongst the occult because it could be drawn in one stroke which made magic far more powerful in rituals,” Castiel explained.

Dean blinked in surprise. “So your sister was a devil worshiper.”

Castiel laughed, “Hardly. The symbol began as the magical Star of Solomon and, in myth, was the symbol on the gates of Atlantis. The points are meant to bring together earth and the divine. We were a religious family on upbringing, and unity was always something Anna felt very strongly about.”

“Huh,” was the only response Dean could muster. He wasn’t really sure if he understood any of that, but it was a cool symbol none-the-less. “You know a lot about that stuff. I think it’s awesome. One day you should take me to the Smithsonian and make a historian out of me. I never finished school, so I don’t really know anything.”

Castiel gave a kind smile, “I’m sure you know a lot more than you give yourself credit for, and nothing would make me happier than taking you to D.C.”

Dean grinned as he leaned over the desk, close enough that he was almost brushing noses with Castiel. “It’s a date.” With a hopeful heart Dean locked in on Castiel’s lips and leaned in.

The desk began to vibrate and the jingle of Castiel’s phone echoed in the office. With a start, Castiel moved away from Dean and reached around in the pile of papers for the object. Glancing at the screen, the historian gave Dean an apologetic flash. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Dean was screaming on the inside, but he mustered up a smile as he shoved his balled hands in his pockets and rolled back onto the heels of his feet. “Sure thing.” Cursing under his breath at his bad luck, Dean walked out, Castiel’s voice fading the further he went. Twice he had been cock-blocked! 

Frustrated and with blue-balls, Dean made for his house and quickly stripped down to his boxers, and after rummaging around in one of the drawers he pulled out a copy of Busty Asian Beauties. Dean didn’t really classify his sexuality; he was a man that had an appreciation for both sides of the spectrum. But all he could see when he thought about men was Castiel, and that thought was too irritating to keep an erection after the interruption. With an exhausted sigh he made himself comfortable on the bed and went forth for a little relaxation.

Try as he might, every woman seemed to morph into blue eyes, sex hair, and a man’s body.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Dean’s alarm went off that morning, he greeted it with an unusual smile; if everything went according to plan, today was going to be a good day. Throwing off the covers he hopped in the shower and spent a little more time picking out the right clothes for today’s jaunt. Once satisfied he ventured out of his own home towards the main house. A hazelnut and cinnamon fragrance filled the air as he opened the door and made for the kitchen. 

Laid out on the table were Missouri’s fresh cinnamon rolls, freshly cut fruit, and a large pot of coffee. Dean could feel himself starting to salivate at the sight. “I’m damn glad I decided not to be a jockey.”

“Fuck you,” Gabriel growled in response. He was the only one present other than Castiel and Missouri, but Dean had arrived sooner than usual in excitement.

Castiel gave a roll of his eyes over the top of the newspaper he had been reading and gave a kinder response to Dean’s entrance, “Hello, Dean.”

“Mornin’, Cas,” Dean smiled as he took a seat and instantly reached for the plate of cinnamon rolls. “What’s on your plate for the day?”

“I had nothing in particular planned,” he responded as he placed his attention back to the newspaper. “I spend most of my free time doing continued research on the industry. “Was there something you had in mind?”

Dean felt his heart leap up in excitement. “Actually, yeah. I was thinking we could go for a ride.”

There was a snort from Gabriel as he spit out some of his orange juice and Castiel’s body went rigid; the man’s blue eyes were wide behind black frames. “My apologies, I don’t believe I heard you correctly. You said ‘we’? Do you mean you are going to ride one of the horses yourself?”

Dean had to keep himself from laughing at the pure look of terror on Castiel’s face. “Well, yeah, but I also meant you.”

Castiel quickly folded the paper shut and set it down on the table. “No, no, I don’t ride!”

“Oh come on,” Dean pleaded, “You could ride Asia. She’s real mellow and I know she’ll keep you safe.”

“Oh, yes, you want to put me on a horse that is prized for her speed!” Castiel protested, his face growing paler by the second.

Dean smirked and leaned back in his seat, draping an arm over the top of the empty chair next to him. He had, of course, been hoping Castiel would jump on the opportunity, but it was almost more fun to see the man squirm. “You’re scared.”

“Of course I am!” Castiel agreed with gusto, hands clenching the newspaper tightly. Gabriel was on the sidelines grasping at his ribs as he continued to laugh. Castiel cast his brother a frantic look. “I have been on a horse maybe twice in my entire life and even then I was a child with an adult leading the horse around!”

“Oh, come on, Cas!” Gabriel whined. “Asia’s pregnant. It’s not exactly like she’s going to haul ass with you across the field.”

“If she’s pregnant, than I hardly should be riding her,” Castiel argued back.

“Exercise is good for pregnant women. It’s no different with horses, Cas,” Dean rebutted. A sinking feeling began to creep into his stomach and he was beginning to think that Castiel would not budge at all, ruining his entire plan for the day. He tried to fix a reassuring smile onto his face as he met the man’s blue eyed gaze. “Look, Cas, I’m not going to force you to do anything. Charlie was telling me about the trails behind the pasture, and I just thought it would be really good for Lazarus to do something other than run in a circle. It would have been nice to have some company...” he trailed off, watching Castiel’s nervous expression hopefully. 

Castiel fiddled with the newspaper in his clenched fists, the paper torn to shreds and completely unreadable. With a deep inhale he spat out, “Fine! But if I fall off, you are fired.”

Dean’s mouth twitched with an excited smiled. “Deal. Go put on some jeans and boots and meet me at the stables.” Reaching for another cinnamon roll he shoved it in his mouth, with a wave of thanks in Missouri’s direction, and walked out of the house with an extra bounce to his step. Charlie hadn’t even made her way to breakfast yet, but Dean felt a strong urge to spend some personal time with Lazarus. Spending time with the filly always tended to put him in a good mood, but the idea of riding with Cas made the thought infinitely sweeter.

Dean was wrapping the filly’s hind legs when Charlie came bounding into the stall with a glowing expression. “Oh my god! You’re taking Castiel riding? That is the most amazingly sweet and romantic thing I have ever heard of in my life!”

“Whoa, hold on there, Charlie,” Dean protested, straightening out and maneuvering around the filly so that he could better see the groom. “This isn’t some kind of date or anything.”

“Ugh, please,” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid. I may not like having sex with men, but I can still appreciate the male figure and Castiel is pretty dreamy,” she gave a wink. “I’ll go ahead and take care of Asia, and don’t even think about paying me for it. This is me helping you get laid, and I offer the service freely.”

Dean’s cheeks flared, “No this isn’t-,”

“Yeah, ok, whatever, Mr. Denial,” grinning cheekily, she waved him off, not bothering to pay him anymore attention as she turned away and headed for the tack room. “We have a really nice western saddle he can ride in!” She hollered from the room. “That way he can hold on to the horn when he panics every five seconds!”

Dean shook his head, but was glad for the extra hand. He saddled Lazarus with his personal saddle and exited the stall, waiting patiently for Castiel. A part of him feared the man would back out and never show, but only a few minutes later the historian was walking towards the barn in a pair of dark wash jeans and a tan dress shirt, the sleeves rolled as usual. Dean couldn’t help but cast Castiel a judgmental look as he strolled up, “You do realize you are in a barn and will probably get all that dirty, don’t you?”

“It’s fine,” Castiel responded nervously. “Are the horses ready?”

“Yup,” Dean nodded. “Just need to bridle. Charlie will meet you out the north end of the barn with Asia.”

“Are we not wearing helmets?” Castiel inquired.

“Not unless Gabriel will lend you his. Come on, you’ll be fine, I promise.” Dean could easily tell Castiel was not convinced by his words, his eyes still fearful. “Cas,” he reached out and gripped the man’s shoulder with a tender touch, “I promise.”

Muscles still tense, Castiel nodded. “Ok.”

Dean settled himself onto Lazarus easily and watched in amusement as Charlie manhandled Castiel on top of Asia. The instant his butt hit the saddle he was pulling back on the reins in panic, causing the mare to throw her head up. “Whoa, easy there, Cas. Don’t pull so hard. Relax.”

Castiel thrust his hands down onto the mare’s neck and Asia relaxed underneath him. “Dean, I want off!”

“Quit being such a baby!” Charlie teased, her eyes dancing with amusement at her boss’ nerves. 

“Cas, you’re fine,” Dean repeated. “Charlie, why don’t you get me a lead? That might make Cas feel better.” The groom nodded and returned seconds later with a leather lead. She clipped one end to Asia’s bit and handed off the leather portion to Dean. “Look, see? I’ll have a hold of Asia the entire time.”

“Lazarus won’t mind?” Castiel asked, tension slowly leaving his body.

“Nah,” he shook his head giving the pregnant mare a little bit more space as he let part of the lead slip out of his fingers, “This is how they are lead to the starting gate before races. She’ll have to get used to it one way or the other. You ready?”

There was hesitation, but Castiel nodded as he grabbed hold of the horn with both hands, “Yes.”

Lazarus tossed her head, impatient, and Dean finally gave her the rein to start moving off. Even with Castiel’s anxiety, Asia was calm underneath him and willingly followed after her daughter. Castiel was silent, focused on staying on the horse, but Dean didn’t let it bother him. It gave him time to look up to the sky and appreciate everything that had happened in the past few months for him. Sucking in a breath he let himself sigh in relief. 

By the time they made it to the tree line where the trails were, Castiel had finally relaxed and was only holding on to the saddle with one hand. Thankfully, the trails were wide enough to accommodate them both. Dean thought they were probably used for biking and hikers, too, with the way the trail was laid out. 

“It’s beautiful,” Castiel finally commented.

Dean turned his head so that was looking at the historian and smiled, “Sure is.” He wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with the man on the scenery, or if he meant it for Castiel; he didn’t analyze it too closely, content to just watch the other man.

“Is this...part of their training?” Castiel asked as he locked eyes with Dean.

“Everyone needs a day to relax, Cas. They need a day just to be a horse. This keeps her mind relaxed and her soul fresh; too many horses get burnt out before they even reach potential.”

“Hmm,” Castiel hummed in agreement. “I appreciate it, that you care so much for the horses. It means a lot to me.”

Dean felt exposed under Castiel’s gaze the way the man was looking at him. He found he couldn’t hold the look and turned away nervously. Clearing his throat he tried to find something to say, but was at an unusual loss for words. “Thanks.” Thanks. He mentally kicked himself at how idiotic the word sounded coming out of his mouth. Bravo, Dean. An awkward air drew up around the two as he struggled to find something to say to get rid of it. 

Fortunately, Castiel managed to come up with something. “Lazarus is doing well. Do you know what race you want to enter her in first?”

Dean nodded, “Yeah. There’s some MSW races up at Belmont the end of September, 6 ½ furlongs on a dirt track. We’ll know after that if she is going to do anything special.”

“You often forget that I don’t understand track slang. What does MSW mean?” Castiel asked, no anger in his voice, simply curiosity.

Shit. Dean knew that Castiel didn’t know these things, and yet he still talked as if he should. “Ah, sorry. It means Maiden Special Weight. It’s for 2-year-olds who haven’t run a race before, but are expected to win and move up quickly. If she can’t do well against other fillies, there’s no way she’s running against colts. I think she can do it, but I need concrete proof.”

Castiel gave a nod of understanding, “Of course.” 

They continued riding, Dean explaining to Castiel the different types of races and what his plans were for all the horses for the upcoming racing season. As he finished his current topic of conversation he noticed Castiel shiver. It was July. “Are you cold?”

“Did you not just feel the temperature drop?!” Castiel questioned. 

Well, now that he thought about it, it did suddenly get much cooler. The tree line was thick as he looked up, but what he could see of the sky was dark. “Shit. Was it supposed to rain?”

“There was a slight chance for afternoon showers, but it’s not even noon and those clouds look ominous,” Castiel frowned. 

There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance and a cold drop of rain landed on Dean’s nose. There was pause and then the drops were coming down more frequently. Lazarus’s ears perked up and her body tensed underneath him. “Ok, time to turn around.”

Castiel gripped at the horn again, “They aren’t going to bolt are they?”

“Not if we hurry,” Dean responded with a mischievous smile. “I’d hold on with both hands if I were you.” With a cluck of his tongue he coaxed Lazarus into a trot.

Castiel’s eyes grew extremely wide as he scrambled to grab on to the horn, Asia following after her daughter at the quicker pace. “Dean! Dean, no!”

“It’s time to graduate to the advanced course, Cas!” Dean called out next to him as the rain began to pour harder, the dense trees the only barrier between the two becoming soaking wet. Giving Lazarus a little more heel the horses took off at a gallop. Dean could vaguely hear Castiel screaming his name through the pounding rain, but the only response he offered was tightening his grip on Asia’s lead. 

The rain was blinding as they broke through the tree line into open field. Dean could barely see the barn at the bottom of the hill. Taking a brief moment to look over to see that Castiel was still in the saddle he pushed Lazarus into full stride to get them home. Only a few feet from the barn Dean brought the horses up and dismounted to lead them underneath the cover of the barn. 

Moving towards Asia’s side he could see Castiel sitting there in shock, panting, and frozen to the saddle. “Cas, come on,” he placed his hands on the man’s hips and helped him slide off the horse’s back, Cas gripping painfully at Dean’s shoulders. 

“Oh my god, guys! There you are!” Charlie called out as she ran towards them. “God, you guys are soaked!”

“No shit,” Dean responded, still holding on to Castiel.

“We’re under a severe weather warning for the next few hours; Bobby and I managed to get the horses in just before it started coming down in sheets. I’ll take care of the horses!” She took a horse in each hand and led them away towards their stalls.

Dean turned his attention back towards Castiel. The man’s hair was clinging to the sides of his face and he couldn’t even see his blue eyes through the raindrops on the lenses of his glasses. He was still breathing far too quickly, and Dean was beginning to worry he had given the man a panic attack.. “Cas? You ok?”

“That was,” Castiel breathed, eyes still cast down. “That was....amazing.” He lifted his head and the raindrops fell just enough for Dean to be able to lock eyes through the glass. “It was amazing!” He laughed. “I felt so completely free! I-,” Castiel held his breath for an instant to slow his heart rate.

Dean knew he had to take this moment. Moving his hands to cradle Castiel’s face, he leaned in and locked lips with the historian. With the other man’s soaking body pressed against him Dean felt how Castiel sucked in a surprised breath, but then quickly wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and opened his mouth to the trainer. Dean let his tongue dive in and tasted rain and cinnamon, savoring every bit of it as he ran his hand through drenched locks and gave a slight tug to pull him away.

Castiel looked beautiful with his cheeks flushed red and pupils blown wide with lust. Licking his lips, Dean suggested, “My bed. Now.”

In a deep and gravelly voice that went straight to Dean’s groin, Castiel simply responded, “Yes.”

Dean was not sure how they made it through the door of his house between the continued rain and their frantic, heated, kisses. As soon as they were past the barrier of the door Dean had Castiel pinned against the wall with his tongue down his throat and his hands pulling his shirt out of his pants. Both men were grabbing at articles of clothing, but each one clung at the skin causing Dean to let out a bloodcurdling growl in frustration. 

Buttons went flying as Dean ripped apart Castiel’s shirt and pulled it down. The fabric stuck at his elbows, forcing Dean to back away and pull. The sleeves broke free from Castiel’s outstretched arms with an abrupt tug, and man tumbled forward back into Dean’s embrace. Dean locked lips with the man once more as he let his hands venture over smooth and slick skin while Castiel tried to pull his polo over his head. 

In the blink of an eye they were both suddenly on the bed, free of shoes and Dean tugging at Castiel’s jeans, the man’s body sliding to the edge of the bed as he did so. Castiel was laid out beneath him only in a pair of boxer briefs. Hiding underneath the expensive clothes was pure lean muscle, and runner’s thighs that he couldn’t wait to have wrapped around him in a vice grip. Castiel had lost his glasses somewhere along the way and Dean found himself looking fully into the man’s eyes for the first time. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured before laying himself down on Castiel, grinding their hips through the fabric. 

Castiel moaned into his mouth and snuck his hands underneath Dean’s jeans, squeezing at his buttocks. “Please, Dean,” he gasped as he shoved their hips together and arched his back up and off the bed. 

Taking Castiel’s lower lip between his teeth, he bit down and sucked as he pulled away off the bed. Castiel followed him halfway up before Dean let his mouth go and he fell back against the bed. With flimsy fingers Dean fumbled with the belt to his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down to his ankles, erection springing free and standing firm. It was far from graceful as he tripped over himself kicking the clothing off his ankles, but Castiel caught him and they eased right back into their grinding. 

Dean breathed in Castiel’s scent, relishing in the pleasure of it as his hands crept down his stomach and hips towards the waistband of his boxers. Castiel arched up in encouragement to help the trainer slip them free and sucked in a breath as his member touched cold air. With a claiming growl, Dean latched on to the dip between neck and shoulder and bit down possessively with his teeth. He wanted everyone to know that Castiel was now his. 

Castiel made no move to protest, nails raking down the skin of Dean’s back to leave his own marks, their cocks rubbing up against each other as they moved. Curling his leg around Dean’s waist Castiel flipped them and roughly shoved Dean down against the mattress, making Dean’s heart gave an excited flutter at the man’s sudden show of dominance. Sliding down his lap, Castiel lowered his head and gave Dean’s naval a swirl of his tongue and a kiss - then dove deeper, taking the head of Dean’s cock into his mouth. Castiel suckled on the head like it was a piece of candy and Dean let out soft moans of pleasure, encouraging the man to take him deeper with a caressing hand on his head. 

Castiel took the encouragement, and looked up at Dean through dark lashes as he lowered his mouth and took all of him in. Dean gripped at the bed sheets to keep himself from thrusting up into the delicious heat of Castiel’s mouth. Grabbing hold of the base of Dean’s shaft, Castiel bobbed his head up and down with obscenely hollowed cheeks. 

Dean knew he was getting far too close, and he did not want this to end anytime soon. Forcefully, Dean grabbed hold of Castiel’s hair and pulled him up and off his dick with a wet pop, then flipped them over so that once again Dean was on top. Castiel’s cheeks were flushed red and lips were swollen. The historian flicked out his tongue teasingly as he grabbed hold of Dean’s hand, and guided it down between his cheeks so that Dean’s fingers brushed against his opening.

Dean sucked in a breath through his nose, his primal instinct starting to flow through every vein in his body. “Is that what you want, Cas? For me to fuck you?”

Castiel lifted himself up so that he could lock lips in a bruising kiss, before breathing a, “Yes,” into his neck. 

Dean felt a wave of satisfaction pass over him and he took hold of Castiel’s heavy member in his hand, thumb spreading pre-come along the tip. He gave a few pumps of his wrist before crawling towards the nightstand and rummaging through a drawer for the lube and a condom. Rolling onto his side he asked, “How do you want it, Cas?”

Castiel took a moment to think about it before he rolled onto his stomach and lifted his ass into the air like a prize waiting to be claimed. Dean licked his lips and was instantly moving to position himself where he could see Castiel’s tight pink hole. Popping open the cap of the lube Dean poured a generous amount over the historian’s hole and coated his dick with the excess liquid. Placing his hands firmly on Castiel’s cheeks he began sliding back and forth over his hole. The feeling of Castiel’s skin on his dick as he moved back and forth was incredible and had him leaking pre-come onto the man’s back.

“Dean,” Castiel whined as he shoved his hips up, “Enough teasing.”

Dean offered a mischievous grin and pressed just the tip of his finger against his hole. “This what you want?” His answer came in the form of quite the pathetic whimper and Dean let his whole finger get swallowed by the hole. 

Castiel purred and began grinding his hips against the bed to gain some friction on his hardened member as Dean worked his fingers in and out. Dean reached a hand underneath the other man and wrapped his hand around the base of his dick, stroking him in thrusts with his now two fingers. Castiel rocked back against him, lips parted and short gaps leaving them. 

With three fingers now buried in his ass, Castiel reached around and grabbed at Dean’s wrist. “I’m ready. Hurry up.”

Dean’s eyebrow twitched upwards in amusement, “I thought I was the one that calls the shots around here?”

“Not when I do not see progress,” he growled in response. 

Dean snorted and reached for the condom package, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it onto himself. Sucking in a deep breath he ran his hands up Castiel’s thighs, the dark hairs soft against his touch. Reaching his buttocks, Dean parted them with one hand and guided himself to Castiel’s entrance with the other. Holding his breath, Dean breached the tight ring of muscle excruciatingly slowly. 

Castiel let out a loud gasp as he reached around to pull at his other cheek to allow Dean full access. The further in Dean got, the more insistent Castiel’s moans became, his face now buried against the pillow. Dean finally allowed himself to breath as he bottomed out, the golden curls of his pubic hair tickling at Castiel’s fair skin. Sliding back out he snapped his hips forward in one long thrust, Castiel shrieking in pleasure as he reached for the headboard to hold on to. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s torso and leaned in over his shoulder to lock lips as he began to piston in and out of Castiel at a quick and firm pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the room. 

Castiel was extremely vocal, and it was pure encouragement for Dean as their tongues continued to dance and he continued to pound into the man underneath him. Castiel curled his feet around Dean’s ankles, locking their legs together. When the muscles in his lower stomach began to tighten, Dean’s thrust became frantic and the headboard began knocking against the wall. Biting Castiel’s shoulder, Dean grunted and came with a violent shudder. Dean’s breaths were labored as he gave a few short thrusts and then pulled his softened dick out of Castiel’s ass. 

Pulling the condom off and tossing it, Dean lifted Castiel’s hips completely off the bed and dove his tongue into the red and swollen hole in front of him. Castiel howled in pure ecstasy, coming in thick streams of white as soon as Dean’s tongue tasted him. Dean stroked him to full completion, his tongue working its way in and out until Castiel’s shudders stopped and he collapsed in full onto the mattress.

Dean let himself fall next to Castiel, their breaths coming hot and heavy. When Dean rolled onto his side, Castiel was staring at him with such intensity that he could feel it in his soul. Dean propped his head up with his hand and grinned, “Bet you are glad you hired me now, huh?”

Castiel closed his eyes and smiled. “Every day during our lunches I think about how thankful I am to have you. That I could have never made it through this if it weren’t for you.” Castiel ran his fingers across Dean’s jawline. “You said I was the only one to have given you a chance, but it was really you who were giving me one.”

Dean swallowed, an indescribable feeling rising in his gut that seemed a lot like fear. “Jesus, Cas, don’t say shit like that.”

“You don’t think you deserve to be appreciated, to be loved,” he murmured sadly. “I disagree.” Unable to take being underneath such a soulful gaze, Dean rolled onto his back, but Castiel followed and laid a hand over Dean’s heart. “I want to take care of you, Dean. Will you let me?”

Dean turned his head towards the nightstand, fighting tears. He refused to be a baby about this. “I don’t know how. I’ve always had to take care of myself and everyone else.”

Castiel turned Dean’s head back towards him so that they were locking eyes. “Take care of my horses, and I will take care of you.” He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Dean’s lips. 

That aching feeling. The fear. Dean knew what it was, and with every second he grew more afraid of it - but the look in Castiel’s eyes gave him courage, and he recaptured the man’s lips, holding him close. 

/*/

By the time Castiel and Dean had taken a shower and cleaned up, the rain had subsided and they went on their usual lunch date. As Dean headed back to his house, Castiel realized he hardly lived alone and knew Charlie must have seen him go off with Dean. There was no doubt in his mind that Gabriel had already received word of what happened.

Sure enough, when Castiel opened the door Gabriel was standing there with a lollipop shoved up his mouth. He would have preferred it stayed there, but his older brother withdrew it and grinned. “So. How was it?”

“To what are we referring to?” Castiel asked as he removed the tan trench coat and placed it on the coat rack. 

“Don’t play coy with me, Cassie; Charlie couldn’t wait to spill the beans on what happened after your trail ride. How was he? Is he big? Does he have a talented tongue? Who bottomed? Scratch that,” he said, narrowing his eyes with a smirk as he looked at Castiel, “I know Dean would never be bottom-bitch. Did he fill you up good?”

“Gabriel!” Castiel cried, cheeks and ears turning bright red in embarrassment. “It is none of your business!”

Gabriel simply wiggled his eyebrows in amusement. “Well?”

“I will answer none of your questions,” he responded as he made for the kitchen. 

Gabriel’s lips drew out in a frown, “You’re no fun.”

Castiel stopped at the counter, placing his hands on the granite. Biting at his lips in uncertainty he asked, “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What? You and Dean?” Gabriel inquired as he reached for a beer from the fridge and grabbed an extra for his brother. “Cas, I’m not going to lie. As far as business goes, if the two of you call it quits and it’s ugly, this farm is fucked. On the other hand...you’re my brother, and I want you to be happy. You’ve always been this boring recluse for as long as I’ve known you, and around Dean you seem to come out of your shell. If he makes you happy, I’m good.”

Castiel felt a huge weight lifting off his shoulders. Lunging forward he embraced Gabriel tightly. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kiddo,” Gabriel smiled. “But don’t think I’m not going to give him the big brother speech.”

“And don’t think I’m changing the sheets after you two do the deed,” Missouri added before Castiel could reply, coming in from the dining room. 

Castiel felt his cheeks grow hot again, but then relaxed into a smile. Initially, the thought of everyone knowing about his relationship with Dean frightened him, but it seemed as if everyone had nothing but supportive and encouraging words. “I would never ask you to, Missouri. Thank you, both of you.”

“No problem, honey,” Missouri replied with a kind smile. “Now come help me make this pie. Food is the quickest way to a man’s heart, and Dean sure does love his pie.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean was leaning against the railing of the paddock watching intently as the horses that were about to be raced were saddled and the jockeys hopped up onto their mounts. Belmont was alive with a bustling crowd, all who were excited to view some of the first races of the season. He wished he could feel as eager as the rest of them. Nerves had kept him tossing and turning all night and it hadn’t subsided any as the day continued to progress. Luckily, Castiel was a heavy sleeper and it hadn’t bothered him at all through the night. 

Sucking in a deep breath he tightened the grip on the racing program that was in his hand. Written in pencil at the top corner of the page were several series of numbers followed by the words ‘WPS’, ‘Trifecta Box’, and ‘Exacta’ next to them. Not only did Dean have to fight off his nerves of the upcoming races for Lazarus and Mystery, but his not-so-secret addiction of gambling. John had been well known for his gambling problems, especially after the incident. Dean had kept his public instances mainly to drinking, but he was definitely known to gamble. Watching as one horse began to dance irritably once the jockey was on his back, he crossed out one of the numbers on his list and replaced it.

“Ah, there you are,” Castiel purred as he placed a subtle hand at the dip of Dean’s back. “What are you doing over here? Ah-,” Castiel noticed the numbers on the sheet, “Dean Winchester, are you a gambling man?”

Dean twitched anxiously and folded the program over so that Castiel could no longer see, “You could say that.” Dean was surprised Gabriel hadn’t informed his brother of his problems, but a part of him was thankful for it. Castiel had never asked why he’d been banned from some tracks, and he had never offered up the reasons.

“I’ve never bet on horses before. Would you teach me?” Castiel asked as he leaned further into Dean to reach for the program.

Dean pulled away and offered his best smile, “Better you don’t start, Cas. It can be a dangerous thing.” Please just let it drop.

“Nonsense,” He responded, “I won’t put down anymore than the minimum bet. I just think it might make the races more interesting.”

“That’s how it all starts,” Dean argued, his voice rising and getting more forceful, “With two dollars here and two dollars there until suddenly two dollars is all you have.”

Castiel was taken back at the sudden explosion. “Dean, is this about your father?”

No, it’s about me. Shaking his head Dean apologized, “Sorry. Look, if you want to learn I’ll teach you but just promise me you’ll keep it under wraps.”

“Dean, if you really don’t-,” Castiel began to protest but Dean was already talking.

“First rule of betting is to know what you are laying your money down on. I never place a wage without seeing the horse in the paddock. You need to see how they are feeling that day. See number 4? The bay? He’s a little agitated. His ears are back and he’s tense. Even though his stats are good, he’s not going to run well. You want something relaxed, but with a little bounce to it. I like number 8 for this race.”

“I see,” Castiel nodded. “And what exactly does Trifecta mean?”

“Ah, let’s just stick with straight bets this go around,” Dean suggested. “Win, Place, Show. Those are your straight bets. Win is obvious. If you put money on a horse to show, they can come in either first or second and you’ll win money.”

“But if they come in second you win less money,” Castiel finished, indicating his understanding.

“Right. Show means they can come in first, second, or third. With this being one of the first races of the season, there isn’t much to go on statistically. It’s going to be all about workout numbers at this point,” He finished. 

“So, are you going to place your bet?” Castiel asked curiously.

Dean thought about it. It would be so easy to walk right up to the counter and place his bet. “Nah, this is just for fun. Come on, let’s go check on Charlie. Mystery is up soon.” They walked in behind the paddock towards the stables where Charlie was sitting quietly in a chair outside the stalls reading. “They doing ok?”

“They aren’t nervous at all,” she smiled. “I actually think Lazarus is the most relaxed.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean reached up and ran a hand down Lazarus’s face, “They aren’t in the starting gate yet. Mystery is up next, so go ahead and start getting him ready. We’ll take him down to the paddock together to meet Gabriel.” Gabriel was riding Mystery and Lazarus in their races, and Garth had Kansas as his mount.

Dean handed his racing program over to Castiel, “Here. You’ll need this if you want to place some bets. I may or may not have left some cheat sheets in there for you. I think I’m going to just stay here. I don’t think I can stand to watch any of the races.”

Castiel gave a warm smile, “Dean, you have to watch your horses run.”

“Nope,” Dean objected, “I have you to do that for me.”

Castiel took a step forward and leaned in so that his breath was hot against Dean’s ear. “Dean, if you leave me in the stands to deal with this alone, I promise you that I will leave you in bed to deal with this,” Castiel grasped at Dean through his slacks, “alone.”

“Oh, he plays dirty,” Charlie grinned as she grabbed the wraps for Mystery’s hind legs. 

Dean swallowed hard and bit at his inner cheek to stifle a threatening erection underneath Castiel’s palm. “Yeah, ok, I’ll be there.”

“Good,” Castiel smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “If you don’t mind, I’d also like a bourbon on your way,” he called back as he walked away from the stables.

“Dude,” Charlie began as she entered Mystery’s stall, “He’s so got you whipped.”

Dean couldn’t argue with that. “Would you just get the damn horse ready?”

“Don’t blame me that he threatens you with sex,” Charlie responded, kneeling down in the stall to begin applying the wraps.

Dean chose to ignore the comment and waited outside the stall until Charlie opened the door and handed Dean one end of the lead. “We all set?”

“Let’s go win us a race!” Charlie took the right side of the horse and they began leading the colt to the paddock area to meet up with Gabriel. They rounded Mystery into stall number 4, the crowd gathering in full to meet the next round of horses. Camera crews were also at the ready. Gabriel made it into their sights decked in his full silks and his saddle in his arms and whistling ‘Heat of the Moment’. “Dude, you aren’t riding Asia, you know that, right?”

“It’s my good luck song, Dean-o. Don’t ruin the moment. I promise I already have Laz’s own tune picked out, though,” He gave a wiggle of his eyebrows and threw the red saddle cloth up and over Mystery’s back followed by the saddle. 

Dean adjusted everything and tightened the girth for Gabriel. “Alright, I made sure to watch each of these guys train throughout the week. Number 3 is most likely going to break first, but he’s not going to be able to last that the full 6 ½. Number 7 is who you need to watch out for. He’s probably going to be the last of the pack, but watch him along the head of the stretch. He can come up on you quick. Ideally you want Mystery to hold the third position until you round the final turn.”

Gabriel nodded in understanding. “I’m good at finding the hole and taking it,” he winked.

Dean rolled his eyes and was about to provide comment when he heard the familiar sound of the bugle calling the riders and their mounts to the post. “Alright, it’s go time.” Charlie led Mystery out of the stall and Dean offered his hands out to give the jockey a boost on the colt’s back. 

Gabriel stuck his feet in the stirrups and adjusted the reigns. Mystery gave a toss of his head, but after a few calming whispers from the jockey he was settled in. “Don’t worry, Dean-o, I’ll be bringing home the first trophy in about ten minutes.”

Dean gave the colt a pat on the rump and watched as Charlie filed them into the parade line towards the track. The anxiety was growing so fiercely in the pit of his stomach he was thinking a good shot of whiskey was needed. With a brisk walk he made his way to the bar right outside the owner and trainer stands and pulled out a chunk of bills as he ordered his and Castiel’s drinks. The horses were beginning their warm up around the track as he descended the stairs to his seat next to Castiel and proffered the drink to the man.

Castiel gladly took the glass from Dean, “Thank you. Mystery looks calm.”

Dean nodded, “He was tossing his head a bit, but nothing to worry about too much.”

“Good, because my cheat sheet was telling me I should put money down on him to win,” Castiel smiled as he pulled out a bet stub. “It also worked favorable in the race just before. I still am not sure how a Trifecta Box works, but it did win me a grand on a two dollar bet. I’ll be sure to include a cut of that in your next paycheck.”

Dean shook his head in amusement. “Well, good to know I still have it.” The horses arrived at the starting gate and began loading. Several of the horses put up a fuss in their lack of experience, but it was relieving to know Mystery loaded without much trouble. With the last horse in the gate a hush fell over the crowd and Dean downed his shot of whiskey as the bell rang out and the horses leapt out. 

Mystery broke well and Gabriel had him in at the third position as the pack began to settle in. Dean set the empty glass down and gripped the railing hard enough to turn his knuckles white. If he felt this terrible during Mystery’s race, he could only imagine how he’d feel when Lazarus was up to bat. The horses headed into the turn, everyone positioned exactly how Gabriel told them they would be. “Keep him there, Gabe, keep him right there.”

As they rounded into the final stretch Dean spotted the hole. Before Dean could even get the words out of his mouth for Gabriel to make his move, the jockey was there. Mystery squeezed in between two horses and began slipping past them to meet with the lead horse. Number 7 was opening up just like Dean had thought, but it was too late to be able to catch the lead. As they approached the finish line, however, Dean began to fear that the lead horse was going to be able to hold onto it. “Shit, shit, shit.” Mystery was gaining on him, but they were running out of track fast. 

They crossed the finish line too close to tell and the crowd sucked in a breath as the words ‘photo finish’ flashed on the screen. Dean felt Castiel’s hand cover his own as they stood there in earnest waiting for the final result. It seemed like eternity as they waited, but finally the number ‘4’ flashed in the first place position. Dean let out a groan of relief and Castiel was embracing him excitedly. 

“We won!” Castiel exclaimed. 

“Shit,” Dean clenched at his heart, “I’m too old for this shit. Horse is going to give me a goddamn heart attack.” Taking several breaths to calm himself he took Castiel’s hand and began dragging him down the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Castiel called out in confusion.

“Winner’s Circle, Cas!” Dean responded with a smile. “That’s where we go if we, you know, win.”

Photographers and TV crews were all lined up as Mystery and Gabriel were led to the winners circle. Dean motioned for Castiel to come up closer to Mystery, “He’s your horse, hold him for the picture.” Castiel moved hesitantly, but grabbed at the reigns and gave Mystery a congratulatory head rub. 

“Congratulations, Dean,” One of the men in suits spoke as he held out a hand.

Dean took it and gave him a firm shake. “Thanks, Tim.”

Tim picked up a small trophy off the table and handed it out to the trainer. “Looks like you might be starting to break that curse. Hope to see you in the winner’s circle more often.”

Dean gratefully took the trophy and positioned himself next to Castiel. The photographer held his fingers up and was snapping pictures of the group in rapid succession before they were being waved off. 

Charlie was there to intercept Mystery as Gabriel hopped off and pulled the saddle off the colt’s back. “I need more track, Dean!”

“No shit,” Dean responded as they made their way back towards the stables. “I won’t enter him anything less than 7, I promise. You did well; now go get ready for Lazarus. You’ve got two races until she’s up.” He gave the jockey a congratulatory pat on the back and let him walk away.

“You need to relax,” Castiel said as they headed back towards the stands for an hour of downtime. 

“It’s not your job on the line, Cas,” Dean retorted as he pulled more bills out of his pocket for another round of whiskey.

“Your job is not on the line, I assure you,” Castiel promised. He came up behind Dean and whispered in his ear as he curled his fingers just beneath the waistband of his slacks, “I bargain with sex, not money. You’ve already earned yourself a blow job. Let’s see what else you can win today.”

The bartender gave them a questioning look causing Dean to grab his shot and scurry away. “Jesus, Cas,” he growled, “You trying to get me hard?”

Castiel straightened his crooked tie with a grin, “I’ve always thought the idea of public sexcapades intriguing.”

“Really? Well ain’t you a kinky son-of-a-bitch,” Dean grinned. There was no way he could let loose with all the built up stress today, but he was going to certainly keep that knowledge in mind for another time. 

The next hour flew by far too quickly and Dean found himself back at the stables with Lazarus. He took her head into his hands and looked the filly in the eye. “You better win, girl, you hear me? There’s a lot riding on you, for both of us.” Lazarus gave a snort in response and Dean grinned. “Well, alright, then. Charlie, we ready?”

“All quiet on the western front,” she smiled and opened up the stall door. “Stop being such a worry wart. The two of us have been having girl talk all day and she’s ready to kick ass and take names.”

“Girl talk, huh?” Dean gave her a questioning look but took the lead and they led Lazarus to the paddock together. Lazarus had drawn the seventh post which Dean didn’t know to take as good luck or a mocking omen. There was a waiting period before the jockeys started coming out, and instantly Dean was spouting out information. “Number 2 and 5 are going to want to set the pace. I noticed they liked to break fast and get out there when they were training earlier this week. They might get far enough ahead you are going to feel like you need to chase them, but I want you to just sit back and wait, don’t let them suck you into it.”

“Dean,” Gabriel said with an agitated tone, “I’ve got this. Me and this filly are like two peas in a pod.” He gave the filly a good pat on the neck. The Call to the Post was made and he motioned for Dean to give him a boost up.

Dean felt like he was going to pass out as he watched the two make their way to the track. Shit, shit, shit. He needed another shot. Or two. Maybe three. He scurried towards the bar, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the line to the $100 bet minimum counter was completely empty. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared. His fingers played with the cash in his pocket as he contemplated. Everything in his was telling him not to do it, but he couldn’t fight himself as he pulled the $100 bill from his pocket and found himself right at the counter. “Race 6, $100, Win, Number 7.” 

The woman at the counter typed in the information and took the bill from Dean’s hand. A white ticket dispensed from the machine and she handed it to him. “Good luck, sir.”

Dean knew he should have regretted what he had just done, but the feel of the stub in his hand just got him excited. Placing it safely in the inside pocket of his coat he headed back towards the stands and settled in next to Castiel who offered him a comforting smile. 

“You’d never know this was her first race. She looks so graceful out there. Beautiful,” Castiel beamed. 

Lazarus was indeed a sight to look at. She was all leg and stood much taller than the other fillies out in the field. Her head was held up high and prideful as they moved up into a trot around the track. The horses began loading, Lazarus one of the last to go in. With all nine horses settled Dean waited for the sound of the bell. Nothing happened, and Dean began to grow more nervous the longer they sat in the gates. Finally the bell echoed and Castiel was instantly grabbing at Dean. 

Lazarus broke bad. She was late to get out and she just missed sideswiping another horse on her way out. Dean cursed loudly, his hands grabbing at his hair. “Dammit!” The field settled and Lazarus sat there in dead last. 

“I don’t understand, why did that happen?” Castiel asked in a hurried panic.

“She doesn’t like sitting in the gate that long! Fuck!” Dean grabbed at the railing, biting at his lip hard enough to draw blood. Lazarus moved up two spots, but Dean doubted she would make it up before the finish line. “I can’t do this.” He pulled away from Castiel and headed towards the stairs. Castiel called after him, but he ignored him, shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing on. The only thing that stopped him was the eruption of cries from the crowd indicated they had made the turn towards home. Dean gave a glance back and did a double-take before turning back around completely. Lazarus was breaking away from the pack. Sprinting all the way down the stairs to the bottom rail he cried out, “GO LAZARUS! GO!”

Lazarus just kept pulling away, one length, two lengths, finish line. Dean let out a laugh as the official results popped up on the board. Lazarus had won by 2 ½ lengths. “Un-believable!”

“Dean!” Castiel came dashing down the stairs with a huge smile on his face. 

Dean wanted to do nothing but take Castiel in his arms and land a wet one on his lips, but he settled for a loving embrace. The two wasted no time in making it to the Winner’s Circle. Dean knew he had the most idiotic grin on his face as he shook hands with Tim a second time that day.

“I’ll be damned,” Tim smiled as he handed over another trophy to Dean. “Two in one day, Winchester. How many more you have up your sleeve?”

“She’s my girl, Tim. We’re going to go all the way,” Dean promised.

“Now surely we aren’t talking about the Triple Crown here, Dean,” Tim scoffed playfully.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Dean stated as he turned and smiled for the camera as photos were snapped. 

“I can’t believe it!” Gabriel exclaimed as he hopped off the filly and wrapped his arms around her neck. “This girl is incredible! That was the worst break I’ve ever had the displeasure of riding, and she still came up on top!”

“Did she feel ok? She didn’t get hurt or anything with the break, did she?” Dean questioned as they began walking back.

“No, no, she’s fine, she just got agitated sitting there in the gate,” Gabriel said as he took off his helmet and shook out his hair. “Shit, imagine our margin of win if we had broken good.”

Dean grinned, “Good job, Gabriel. You’ve earned this. We’ve still got a lot to prove, though. One race against other fillies doesn’t mean shit.”

“She can do it,” Gabriel assured him, shaking his hand and making his way back to the jockey lockers to shower and change.

As Gabriel walked way Castiel pulled Dean into a dark corner of the barn and shoved him against the wall, locking lips as he did so. “Congratulations,” he breathed in between deep kisses.

Dean groaned into the kiss, “I think I could get used to winning if this is my reward.”

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel growled in a low voice, “The best is yet to come.” He nipped at Dean’s earlobe before stepping back and pulling a betting stub out of his pocket and offering it to Dean. “I think you should take this.”

Dean took the stub and read it. It was a $5 Win bet on Lazarus. “Five dollars? You bet five dollars on our horse?!”

“You told me not to bet high, Dean!” Castiel huffed.

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved the ticket into his chest, simultaneously pulling out his own. “Next time, you should have a little more confidence in what you own.”

Castiel grabbed the ticket and his eyes went wide behind his glasses. “You bet $100! Dean! You told me it was just for fun!”

“I lied,” Dean grinned and captured Castiel’s lips once more. “Now, we have three races until Kansas runs. Why don’t you use that time to tell me all the things you are going to reward me with when we get back to the hotel?”

Castiel hummed with pleasure as he ran his hands down Dean’s sides. “How about I suck you off until you are begging for me to let you come, and right before you feel ready to burst I back off. You’ll be upset, and complain, but I’ll sit you down in the chair across the room and then I’ll crawl onto the bed and let you watch as I spread myself open for you.”

Dean licked his lips and thrust his hips out towards Castiel, but the man refused to provide any sort of friction to the area. Instead, he snaked his hands up his chest and raked his fingernails over Dean’s nipples between the soft fabric of his dress shirt. “And then, maybe if Kansas wins his race, I’ll ride you hard without a saddle and,” he leaned in his that his lips were just missing contact with Dean’s, “I’ll let you come inside me.”

And that was it. Dean let out a painful whimper as grabbed on to Castiel’s tie and spun them around so that Castiel was against the wall. He ground their groins together, teeth hitting teeth as they kissed. “You want to find out what public sex is like so bad? Well you’re about to get it.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  

Lazarus had won every race she had been entered in. She soared past the field in her first stakes race at Aquaduct, and when Dean finally decided to put her up against the colts at the Wood Memorial Grade I Stakes, she won by 4 ½ lengths. Seven starts and seven wins. By all rights Dean said she deserved to be Horse of the Year, but it was not Lazarus that graced the cover of the magazine when it came out; it was Morningstar. 

Frankly, Dean wasn’t at all surprised by it. Morningstar had only lost one race and it was by a nose. Crowley’s name was all in the news and he and his prized colt were already the favorite for the Derby before entries were even drawn. Castiel and Dean had talked about it extensively, and had already decided to nominate Lazarus for the Derby early, even when she still was unproven against the colts. Even with an early entry, Dean was worried they still would not be picked. Their only saving grace was that the fees to even run in the Derby were so outrageous most people couldn’t afford it. By the time it was all said and done, only the winner of the Derby even drew even with late entries costing up to $200,000 with an additional $25,000 if chosen to race and $25,000 to enter the gate. With that being said, Dean had decided not to run Mystery in the Derby, even when he thought he would have greater odds over Lazarus. 

Lazarus was on the tentative field for the Derby, but nothing would be for sure until the posts were drawn that afternoon. They had already brought the filly to Churchill Downs earlier that week to start working her out on the track. Dean was thumbing the phone in his pocket as he watched Gabriel warm Lazarus up in the dense fog before running her last session before Saturday’s race. 

Castiel snaked his arms around Dean and buried his chin into his shoulder. “You keep playing with your phone these past few days. Who is it you won’t call?”

With a heavy sigh Dean leaned into the touch. “My dad. Sam. I know Sammy would be thrilled, but I just don’t want to get my hopes up before post positions are drawn.”

“Dean,” Castiel groaned, “They’ve already been covering us in the papers and filming for the promotion videos. Next to Morningstar, Lazarus is the most talked about horse in the field. Even if no one expects her to win, the crowd already loves her. You don’t think your father would be proud of you just getting this far with her? Dean, she’s already beaten all odds.”

Dean gave a slight shrug. “To be honest, I don’t think my dad would even care. I keep hoping he might, but...”

Castiel turned Dean in his arms so that they were facing each other. “Call your brother, Dean. Invite him out here, it’s not too late...”

“Yeah?” Dean asked with uncertainty.

“Yes.” Castiel cradled Dean’s face in his hands and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “She’s going to be great.”

Dean didn’t want the kiss to end, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s slender torso and leaning in to the touch. Even when they did separate Dean rested his forehead against Castiel’s and they stood there for several moments just like that. “Ok. I’ll call Sam after Laz’s workout.”

Castiel beamed, “Good. I look forward to finally meeting him.”

Dean finished working with the horses - Frenchie and Mystery were in races the same day as the Derby - and found himself a lonely and quiet place in the stands at Churchill Downs. It wasn’t his first time at the track, but it was by far his first time there as a trainer. The feeling of being there was ethereal. Glancing at his phone one last time he searched for his brother’s number and gave it a dial.

“Dean! Hey!”

“Hey Sammy,” Dean smiled at hearing his brother’s voice. “Bad time?”

“No, of course not. What’s up?”

Dean licked his lips. He had gone back and forth several times on how he would tell Sam the news. “Sam...I made it.”

“Made it where?”

Dean sucked in a breath, “Churchill Downs. Sam, I’ve got a horse in the Derby.” He felt himself shaking in anticipation of Sam’s response.

“I know.”

Dean was taken aback by the unexpected reply. “What?”

Sam laughed, “Dean, Bobby told me over a month ago. He knew you probably wouldn’t say anything, but that you’d want me there. He’s been keeping me up to date on everything. Jess and I come in tomorrow.”

Dean didn’t know whether to call and scream at Bobby or profess his love for the old man. “Fuck, Sam, that’s great!”

“I’m so proud of you, Dean. You deserve this. Have you Dad?”

Dean swallowed and shoved his free hand in his pocket, “No.”

“Look, Dean, I’m not going to tell you what to do. I know your relationship with Dad sucks, but you should at least give him a call. You’ll know he’ll watch the race, and he should hear it from you and not some newscaster on the TV.”

Dean rubbed at his temple in irritation of the topic at hand. “Just drop it, please? Dad probably already knows considering he still keeps up with the racing scene. It’s obvious he just doesn’t care.”

Sam gave a heavy sigh but agreed to let it go, “Fine. Our flight gets in to Louisville around 4, can you pick us up?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring Cas and we can go out to eat.” It couldn’t come quick enough, as far as Dean was concerned. It has been far too long since he had seen his brother.

“Great! I can’t wait to meet him. Jess has been going on and on about this since I told her about it. She’s spent my entire paychecks on hats and dresses for this thing.”

Dean smiled at the thought of his brother’s wife blowing all his cash, “And I’m sure she’ll be the most beautiful woman in the race track, next to my Laz of course.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to leave the part about the horse out,” he scoffed. “I’ll call you as soon as we land and let you know what gate we are at. See you tomorrow, jerk.”

“You got it, bitch,” Dean grinned as he ended the call and looked out at the track with excitement. Itching to tell Castiel the news he turned towards the stairs and headed back to the stables. He was greeted with a kiss that received an eye roll from Gabriel and a cooing noise from Charlie. “Sam and his wife, Jess, will be here tomorrow around 4.”

Castiel gave a surprised look, “So soon? I’m surprised they could find a flight that quickly.”

“They already knew,” Dean shrugged.

“Ah,” Castiel smiled, unsurprised. “That’s good. Are you excited?”

“Like a kid waiting for Christmas,” Dean chuckled. 

“Have you decided on whether or not you’ll talk with your father?” Castiel prodded.

Dean tensed, feeling the urge to lash out at the question he kept repeatedly being asked, but he bit his tongue. “No. I’m not going to, Cas. We’ll just let it be a surprise.”

Castiel looked like he was going to respond, but changed his mind. “Why don’t we all go grab some food and then we’ll head to the press conference for the post drawings?”

“You’re paying, right?” Gabriel grinned. 

Castiel gave an irritated grunt but nodded, “Of course.”

They enjoyed their food and chatter and then made their way to one of the largest conference rooms at the track, the Secretariat Lounge up in the Clubhouse. Cameras were everywhere as the post position draw was broadcasted live on NBC and several online racing networks. Directly in front was a wooden stand with a microphone and there was a table to its right where the numbers would be drawn. To the far right was a large board with a cartoonish picture of the starting gate and velcro jockey silks representing each of the various horses running the race. The four of them took a row of empty seats and settled in to the busy chatter before three gentlemen in sharp suits took their positions; two at the table and one at the stand. 

A hush fell over the room and the red lights flared on the cameras indicating they were live and recording. Dean zoned out the introductions and formalities. He was a ball of nervous energy, his right leg bouncing up and down endlessly, as he waited for them to finally get to the post position draw. It was luck. Complete and random luck. They used a box that held 20 marbles each with a number on it. A marble would be drawn, and then a horse from a stack of papers that were shuffled ahead of time would be called. Dean prayed they did not draw the number one post. It would be the complete kiss of death.

“Without further ado,” the gray-haired MC started, “Let’s begin the drawing.”

A marble was rolled onto the man’s hand with the glasses and pink tie. “Number 14.”

The gentleman in the grey suit next to him pulled a piece of paper from his stack. “Jus in Bello. Gordon Walker.”

“Jus in Bello is just coming off a spectacular win at the Spiral Stakes,” the MC commented, “but this will be his first time running the dirt.”

“Number 2,” the next marble was drawn.

“Wendigo. Tommy Collins.”

The marbles continued to be drawn, and Lazarus had yet to make an appearance by the time the board was half full. Dean sucked in a breath, trying to keep his cool but felt like he was about to explode. Castiel’s hand crawled onto his nmoving thigh and gave it a squeeze, instantly freezing it. Dean took hold of the man’s hand and held onto it tightly.

“Number 1.”

Everyone in the crowd was now holding their breath.

“Morningstar. Alistair Black.”

There was a small gasp and all eyes turned to Crowley who had gone extremely pale underneath all that black. The man locked eyes with Dean, and he so couldn’t hold back the smug grin that found itself on his lips. This was sweet victory of the best kind. 

“Man, do we have the best luck or what!” Gabriel snickered.

“The race isn’t won yet,” Dean commented, but he felt the same way. The drawing continued, everyone talking about how the favorite horse was in the worst possible position.

“Number 8.”

“Lazarus Rising. Gabriel Novak.”

Dean’s heart jumped.

“Lazarus Rising is trained by Dean Winchester and has won all seven of her races, including against the colts at the Grade I Stakes Wood Memorial.”

Dean barely registered the congratulatory words from Castiel and his crew. He instead watched as the woman dressed in an elegant red dress by the board moved Lazarus’s silks to the Number 8 gate. They were in. It took him a moment to even realize there was applause. 

The rest of the drawing went by in a blur. He was stopped for comments by a few newscasters, but he barely remembered giving any kind of answers. Dean was wholly stuck in his daze. 

“Dean,” Castiel finally snapped him out of it with a kiss. 

When had they gotten back to the barn? “Yeah?”

Castiel chuckled as he straightened out Dean’s collar. “You were in the clouds.”

“You think?” Dean scoffed.

Castiel gave him another kiss and ran his hands suggestively down the front of his shirt to the slight bulge in between Dean’s legs. “We should celebrate.”

Dean licked his lips and nodded, Castiel’s lustful eyes locking with his. “Yeah, we should.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Jesus Christ, can’t the two of you even wait until we get back to the hotel to fuck like bunnies?”

/*/

This was not good. This was not good at all. Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the technicolor photo of him and Castiel kissing at the track gracing the cover of the Louisville newspaper, the bold headline reading “TRAINER AND OWNER OF DERBY FILLY FIND LOVE WITH ROSES”

“Who the hell took this picture?” Dean asked, still in complete shock.

Gabriel gave an apologetic shrugged, “There are journalists all over the place for the Derby. At least it wasn’t a picture of my brother blowing you in the back alley of the stable. Charlie can’t scrub that image from her brain, by the way.”

“Hey, I didn’t mind it,” Charlie disagreed. 

Dean put his head in his hands in disbelief, “Holy shit.”

“So what?” Castiel asked coolly. “This is not about us, but about Lazarus.”

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to let everyone know we were together, Cas!” Dean shouted out of anxiety. “My brother is going to see this! My dad!”

Castiel heaved a sigh and took a seat at the table next to Dean. “I know, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing that can be done about it now. I...I hate to ask it, but is this something you want to deny?”

Well that was a punch to the gut. His eyes shot daggers into the man across from him. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Don’t yell at me, Dean!” Castiel hissed. “You aren’t exactly taking this very well. You act as if you would deny this if you could.”

“I can’t exactly deny us sucking face, Cas!” Dean threw the paper at Castiel for emphasis. 

“Ohhhh kay,” Gabriel cringed and took hold of Charlie’s arm, “We’re going to leave now.” The two hurried themselves out of the room leaving the couple alone.

“What do you want me to say, Cas? That it’s photoshopped? That we’re just fuck buddies?” He barked, palms placed flat against the table top. 

“You’re the one who is so worried about the photo being in the newspaper, Dean!” Castiel argued back furiously. “You’re the one who is afraid of others seeing it! Are you ashamed of us, is that it!?”

Dean clasped his jaw shut in shock. In their moment of silence they stared at each other, breaths coming heavy from fighting. “N-no! Christ, Cas, no!”

“You’ve told no one in your family about us. What am I supposed to think?” Castiel’s eyes were filled with hurt.

Dean looked away at the accusation. “It’s not that I didn’t want to Cas, it’s just...I’ve done nothing but disappoint my family, and if my dad knew I was gay he’d try and rip the Winchester name right off me. And Sam...Sammy always looked up to me, and I’ve just been one giant catastrophe. I couldn’t-,” He swallowed trying to keep the tears at bay, “I couldn’t even grow a pair of balls to tell him I was living out of my car and fucking broke. Somehow, I think he kind of knew. He was always offering money, but I just couldn’t fess up to the reality. I feel like,” Dean wiped away at the tear that had shed, “I feel like if I confess to how I feel and make this all real, you’ll disappear.”

Dean closed his eyes and let his cheek fall against the palm of Castiel’s warm hand. “Dean,” Castiel whispered as he brought their foreheads together. “I’m not going to disappear.”

“What if I lose?”

“Then you’ll have done exactly what everyone expected us to do. Dean,” he sighed and took both of Dean’s hands in his and brought them to his lips to kiss, tears stinging at his own blue eyes. “What you don’t realize is that I need you as much as you need me. If you left now, I don’t think I could bear it. You are my rock. Without you, I will fall. Dean, I -....”

There was a sob.

Dean didn’t know if it was from him or Castiel, the weight of the unspoken words heavy in the room. But they didn’t need to be said. Dean buried his face into the crook of Castiel’s shoulder and they stood there in the comfort of each other.

/*/

“If you don’t stop doing that I’m going to make you pull over and then I’m driving,” Castiel scowled from the passenger side of the truck.

Dean glowered in his direction. “You don’t like to drive!”

“And you aren’t looking at the road! Dean! Look!” Castiel shrieked as they almost crashed into another car. 

Dean slammed on the brakes just in time. “Son-of-a-bitch!”

Castiel was clutching at his chest, the other hand on the dashboard. “Pull. Over.”

“No!” Dean glared as he pressed his foot on the gas pedal again. “We’re almost there. Look, I can see the signs for the airport!”

Castiel crossed his arms and sunk into the seat. “I do hope that once you’ve finally set eyes on your brother, you can set eyes on the road!”

“Well who put a cup of sass in your coffee this morning, huh?” Dean snorted playfully, reaching across the armrest for Castiel’s hand. He hesitated, but only briefly before giving in and letting Dean have it.

Dean had gotten a text from Sam a few minutes before pulling into the airport telling him what gate to go to. The timing was perfect as Dean drove up to the curb and spotted six feet of moose hauling a suitcase quickly towards the truck. “Ah, there’s sasquatch,” he grinned as he unbuckled his seatbelt and quickly scurried out of the vehicle. 

“Dean!” Sam cried as he let his suitcase go at the curb and embraced his brother in a tight hug. “I can’t believe you!” He cried in irritation as they separated. “I had to find out from the paper!?”

“He’s been complaining about it ever since we left the airport this morning,” a beautiful woman with long blonde hair smirked.

“Jess!” Dean embraced the woman next to his brother. 

“It’s good to see you, Dean!” Jess grinned. Her eyes glazed over Castiel and she beamed, “Oh my goodness, aren’t you handsome?! You must be Castiel! I’m Jessica, Sam’s wife!”

Castiel blushed as he went to extend his hand, but Jess was hugging him instead. “Oh, uh, it’s nice meeting you.”

Sam quickly offered his own hand and presented a warm smile, “Cas, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Dean’s talked so much about you.”

“Likewise,” Castiel responded. 

“But seriously, dude,” Sam turned his attention back to his brother. “I mean, I suspected, but why couldn’t you just tell me?”

“Sam, come on,” Dean pleaded as he began grabbing the luggage and putting it into the bed of the truck, “Can’t I just say I’m sorry and be done with it?”

“Absolutely not!” Jess responded. “I demand to know all the juicy details of this relationship over dinner!” She made her way into the backseat next to Castiel as the brothers took point up front.

Dean was surprised, but relieved, at how happy Sam was for him and Castiel. Of all the people he should have been scared of, it should have been Jess. The woman had been drilling poor Castiel non-stop at the restaurant on how they met, their first kiss, the first date, even trying to ask what the sex was like before Sam finally stepped in to save Castiel from his wife.

“Well,” Jess tossed her silky blonde locks over her shoulder, “I think the two of you are completely adorable and you shouldn’t listen to what anyone tries to tell you.”

“Well, I’m so glad I have your approval,” Dean responded mockingly.

Sam gave his wife a peck on the cheek. “So, Dean, are you excited?”

“I’m not sure I’d call it excited,” he answered as he cut into his steak. “I mean...there’s just a lot riding on this.”

“Sam was showing me pictures of Lazarus on the internet. She’s gorgeous! I just wish you had chosen something other than black for her colors. I wanted to find a dress to match her, but this is hardly a funeral I’m attending.”

“I don’t know, it might be mine,” Dean muttered, earning him a slap on the hand from Jess.

“Well, I thought I’d just get a dress in red instead to match the blanket of roses she’ll have on her back after the race!”

“I certainly hope that is the case,” Castiel spoke as he took a sip of his wine. “In two days, we will know.”

Dean sucked in a breath at that. Yes. In two days, they would know.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  

The group had spent the Friday before the Derby enjoying the lavish Kentucky Oaks affair. Each person wore some sort of pink as was tradition on the day of the fillies. The Oaks was what most fillies strived for, but Lazarus had achieved greater. Gabriel had picked up some mounts from other farms for the day, and although he did not win every race he did exceptionally well overall adding to his already polished record. Dean had such a good time with his brother, Jess, and Castiel drinking bourbon and casually watching races that his nerves of the day to come had completely disappeared.

But now, as he stood in the aisle way that led to the track at Churchill Downs, there was no excitement and smiles. There was no carefree spirit riled within him. But there was also no fear in which he had come to expect. Instead, there was a sense of contentment. The first Saturday in May was cool enough that Dean was thankful for his sport coat, his breaths showing just barely in the morning air. Fog had settled densely around the track, the sun just starting to peek over the distant horizon. Sucking in the crisp air Dean closed his eyes and took in the moment he may never get again. In a few hours this placed would be full to the brim with women in their huge hats and sundresses, and alive with the spirit of mint juleps and My Old Kentucky Home.

Every horse, every race, every win, and every loss. It all lead to this instant right here under the shadows of the looming Twin Spires. 

There was unexpected warmth that engulfed Dean in the midst of his thoughts, and Castiel was right there with him. “You should at least eat something this morning. It’s going to be a very long day.”

Dean gave a nod, his stomach letting out a growl in approval of the statement. “Yeah, ok.”

Castiel sucked in a breath and buried his cheek against Dean’s back. They looked one-in-the-same, both wearing tan coats and blue ties although the shade of Dean’s outfit was darker. The frames of his glasses dug somewhat into Dean’s skin as he nuzzled up against him, but Dean hardly seemed to mind. “Charlie said she looks great this morning. She’s eating well and seems very alert. She’s going to be amazing Dean. You are going to be amazing.”

“I feel good, Cas,” Dean admitted as he leaned back into the smaller man’s embrace. “I just feel like something awesome is going to happen here today.”

Castiel gave Dean a kiss on the cheek and took hold of his hand. “Come on. Breakfast. And I need coffee or I’m going to be grumpy the entire day.”

Dean chuckled, “Well we wouldn’t want that now would we?”

People arrived by the busload to Churchill Downs. Bourbon was being poured in healthy amounts by 9 am to the masses as they wasted no time in starting the day long celebration. News crews were everywhere, with the majority of the attention on Lazarus who had quickly become the talk of the entire Derby, even if the betters seemed to still favor Morningstar. Posters were made by the infield crowd downing Lazarus’s name for the world to see. 

Journalists were quick to hound Castiel and Dean both whenever they were seen together about their relationship, but Castiel was always swift to respond with satisfying enough comments to have them on their way to something far more interesting within a few moments. Dean was extremely grateful for it, and met with Sam and Jess in the stands to sit back and enjoy the first few races before the 6:24 post time.

/*/

Gabriel was a successful jockey by all standards. He has won a lot of money and races over the years in several grade stakes, but not once had he been on a mount in the Derby. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t nervous. His decisions while riding Lazarus for those two minutes could mean winning and losing, and his and Dean’s entire careers. 

“Well, well,” a voice purred from Gabriel’s right that sent tremors up the jockey’s spine. An older man took a seat next to him, his body extremely thin and ghastly. “Here we are, smelling roses.”

Gabriel gave a snort as he pulled the white Under Armour top over his head. “The only one that’s going to be smelling roses by the end of the day is me, Alistair.” There wasn’t much that freaked Gabriel out, but the jockey sitting next to him was unquestionably one of those things.

Alistair gave a cluck of his tongue. “Drawing the first post was merely a setback. Morningstar will power right past your silly filly and send you back into oblivion.”

“Rising. Her name is Lazarus Ris-ing,” Gabriel growled condescendingly. “That means she goes up, not down, moron. Pretty sure you are the one riding the fallen angel, asshat.”

Alistair gave a low chuckle as he recited, “And I saw a beast rising out of the sea, with ten horns and seven heads, with ten diadems on its horns and blasphemous names on its heads.”

Gabriel rolled his golden eyes. If quoting scripture was how they were going to play, “Hark!” He jumped up and held his hands up high, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news;” He leaned in with a grin upon his face so that he was mere millimeters from his opponent. “We are gonna kick your ass.”

There was an eruption of laughter and cheers from the other jockeys in the locker. Alistair glowered and a threatening growl rumbled in his throat, but he offered up no retaliation as he up and left. One of the other jockeys, a small but fit Asian boy offered his hand to Gabriel and shook it firmly.

“It’s an honor to finally be in the presence of the famous Loki,” he smiled. “That was cool what you did with Alistair. He’s been a dick all morning.”

“Weh-hell,” Gabriel grinned as he puffed out his chest, “what can I say? Trickster at your service. You’re Kevin Tran, right? They call you the Prophet because you’re really good at predicting races.”

Kevin laughed and gave a detached shrug, “I can tell you I don’t make my living by being a jockey, that’s for sure. I know Tiger isn’t going to win, but it’s been one heck of a ride getting here. Even though we all want our horses to win, we’re all pulling for you.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel nodded as he crossed his arms, “I’m kind of pulling for me, too.” He gave the kid a smile, “Good luck, kiddo. Keep your cool out there.”

Kevin nodded firmly, “Thanks, I’ll try.” 

“In the meantime,” Gabriel reached in his locker for a writing pad and a pen, “Why don’t you tell me who to put my money on?”

As time grew closer, the air in the locker room grew thicker and on edge. Cameras were filming, adding to the nervousness felt by the novices. Gabriel was good at keeping his cool in the face of the media, but he agreed that it was distracting. His eyes were on the television screen that was broadcasting the NBC stream of the Derby. They were finishing up the documentary on Lazarus. 

“Obviously people wanted to make a big deal of it,” Castiel spoke on screen. “Dean is my trainer and in that aspect I am his boss. It doesn’t matter what industry you are in, that kind of romantic relationship is going to be frowned upon. But, Dean and I have never followed the rules, not completely. Our business relationship is - well - just that. I have always considered Dean my equal in the business. We are partners in every way. 

All three of us were in dark places before we found each other. Since the day she was born, everyone was telling Lazarus she wasn’t good enough before they ever saw her run. She would never win because she was a filly. Dean was known to everyone in the industry as a curse because of his ongoing bad luck and many could not separate him and his father. And then there was me, a mere historian who inherited a business I knew absolutely nothing about. 

I spent days on the phone trying to find a trainer who would work the farm after Anna died, and I was always received with laughter and a hang-up when I told them I wanted Lazarus to be a Derby contender. Dean was the only trainer who wanted to take up the challenge. He was in truth quite excited about taking on the challenge, and he was always so willing to help teach me the industry. Without Dean I don’t think my sister’s legacy would have made it a month after her passing. I owe him everything.”

There was warmth that crept its way into the very soul of Gabriel as Castiel spoke those last words. Of course he had had his doubts about Dean and Castiel as a couple, and just Dean as a trainer in general, but here they all were. “I’m going to make you proud, little bro,” he muttered to himself proudly as he placed his helmet on his head and grabbed his saddle. It was time.

The jockeys lined up for the final weigh in that would greet them by the track immediately upon exiting the locker room onto the field. As he grew closer to the light at the end of the tunnel the cheers grew louder and wilder. Clutching the saddle to his chest he stepped out onto the field, thousands of people waving at him and calling his name as he went to step up on the scale. Gabriel could barely hear anything over the feral thumping of his own heart, and he hardly registered the man waving him off the scale and towards the paddock. 

Mercifully, the sight of Dean, Castiel, and Charlie settled next to Lazarus at the paddock drew him back to his senses. Every inch of the railing to the paddock was occupied by spectators waiting to see their favorite pick walk down the alley to the track. Gabriel often felt small amongst others, because he was, but at that moment he felt exceptionally insignificant. 

Dean clasped the jockey’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “You ready?”

“Ha!” Gabriel laughed, the trickster in him shoving away his fears and doubts, “I was born ready, baby.”

Dean’s mouth twitched in delight as he took the saddle from Gabriel and placed it on Lazarus’s back, leaving Charlie to finish securing it. Crossing his arms he let his face twist far more serious. “Wendigo and Jus in Bello are going to take to the early lead. Don’t let Bello get too much of a lead, though, because he does have the ability to pull away if you don’t keep the gap close. Devil’s Trap loves to come from behind, so make sure he doesn’t have a way to get through the pack.” Biting at his lip Dean shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. “Just because Morningstar drew the first doesn’t mean he isn’t a serious threat. Alistair is going to try and take the hole before you do. You can’t let him, Gabriel. If he finds it before you do, it’s back to the pit with us.”

“RIDERS UP!”

Gabriel’s heart jumped. The time was now. The jockeys at the front began mounting their horses and the parade to the track began. A voice in the man’s head was crying out ‘Wait! I’m not ready!’ as Charlie lead Lazarus out of the stall and Dean was suddenly hoisting him up and onto Lazarus’s back. 

“I would wish you luck, but you would only tell me you don’t need it,” Castiel smiled as he marched alongside the filly. 

“Well, luck is about ten percent of it,” Gabriel gave a shrug to which Castiel retorted with a squint and a tilt of his head. Gabriel’s eyes rolled back in his head in frustration. “The song, Cassie? You know, ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will?”

Castiel thought about it, but then shook his head. “I don’t understand that reference.”

“Don’t worry about it, Cas, rap is terrible music anyways,” Dean said. 

Between the concise moment of friendly banter Gabriel had almost forgotten he was even on the back of a horse until the sounds of the bugler filled his ears and the crowd blew up. Lazarus was no longer being led by Dean and Charlie, but instead by the lead horse snuggled up close against the racehorse. Gabriel’s grip on the reins tightened as the horses were led onto the track and then there was a hush that fell over the track before their voices rang out in song.

“The sun shines bright on my old Kentucky home  
Tis summer, the darkies are gay  
The corn top’s ripe and the meadow’s in bloom  
While the birds make music all day.”

It was embarrassing, really, the urge Gabriel felt to cry during this moment. Every jockey dreamt of hearing those words sung as they rode out onto the track, and it had become a reality for him today. 

“Weep no more my lady  
Oh, weep no more, today  
We will sing one song for the old Kentucky home  
For the old Kentucky home far away.”

The singing turned back into cheers as the twenty horses of the field were paraded around. It was almost just too much for the jockey to handle until swiftly they began trotting, and then there was a sense of urgency and focus that overcame Gabriel. Before he knew it all he could hear was the snorts of Lazarus and the horses around them as they made it around the track towards the starting gates. Because of the filly’s extreme dislike of sitting and waiting, he was one of the last to be loaded into the gate. 

As the gate assistants shoved the filly into place and the metal locked in behind them, time seemed to stop around Gabriel. His breaths were exceedingly loud in his ears as he gripped the bay’s mane forcefully. 

The sound of the bell would echo in his mind for months to come.

Gabriel felt himself dive forward out of the gate and the thunder of hooves erupted into a powerful chorus. The pack began to settle after a few seconds, and Lazarus found herself sitting far too close to the back for Gabriel’s comfort. But there was some relief feeling the filly beneath him whispering ‘trust me’ as they settled in fourth from the rear along the stretch. Morningstar was only a few horses in front of them.

He was definitely not used to being this far in the back, dirt flying up into his face at every chance. Reaching up with his left hand he dragged down a pair of goggles to clear his vision. Lazarus switched her lead under him as they started into the first turn. Gabriel kept her exactly where she was, not making any moves as they rounded into the backstretch. Lazarus’s ears were pricked forward and her breathing was nice and relaxed. Gabriel felt ready to explode to full gears as they started into the turn for home. He asked her for a little more, the filly happy to oblige as they passed their first horse, and then another, and one more. 

Tugging at another set of goggles he took in his surroundings hastily. Morningstar was just a head in front of him, and Alistair was uptight with waiting looking for his move. Lazarus switched leads once more and she began chomping at the bit, pulling at the reins Gabriel held in his hands. The filly was telling him to move. The jockey gave the horse beneath him the reins and she sprung into a new speed.

As they reached the end of the turn towards the home stretch Gabriel saw his hole open up to the outside. Pulling on the right rein and digging in his heels he urged the filly to slip through the gap before it closed. He could feel his foot brush against the flank of the horse next to him as he squeezed through into the home stretch. With a brief look over his shoulder he saw that the hole had closed before Morningstar could make it through. 

Every horse was opened up, jockeys demanding the fastest possible speed they could get from their mounts. A flash of panic filled Gabriel as he realized there were just too many horses still in front of him. “Come on, Lazarus! We have to do this!” Gabriel gave the whip two flicks in the filly’s eyesight and she surged forward with a new found strength along the outside. 

Lazarus’s hooves pounded against the earth, breaths coming heavy as she ran faster and faster towards the finish line. As the end grew near, Gabriel suddenly realized there was no one around him. Turning his head he calculated the closest horse was over four lengths away and losing ground. By the time he twisted his head around the words ‘FINISH LINE” were staring him straight in the face.

“Dean! Dean! She won! She-,”

Dean cut Castiel off with a furious kiss, arms wrapped around his waist and lifting him off the ground in joy. When he broke away from his lover Sam and Jess both were on him with huge grins congratulating him. He took Castiel’s hand in his own, “We won!”

“Yes,” Castiel smiled, eyes beaming with pride, and gave Dean another kiss, “Now let’s go claim our prize.”

Dean nodded fiercely in excitement, “Come on sasquatch, you and Jess can come, too!”

The four of them were escorted out onto the track and led towards the infield where the trophy presentation took place. They were already draping the blanket of roses over Lazarus’s back and handing Gabriel his bouquet to take the winner’s photo. Gabriel waved his helmet in the air to the roaring cheers of the crowd as the photos were snapped and the horse was handed off to Charlie and a track assistant to get cleaned up. Dean, Castiel, Sam, and Jess gathered at the top of the pedestal where the trophy sat, the governor of Kentucky and several news teams awaiting them.

“Alright, Tom, here with me is the chairman and CEO of Churchill Downs, Bob Evans, as is the Governor of the Commonwealth Kentucky Steve Beshear,” the newscaster for NBC began, “They will make the presentation of the trophy to the owner Castiel Novak.” The news anchor turned the microphone over to the Governor.

“Rich, there are a lot of great horse races in the world, but the Kentucky Derby is absolutely the greatest,” The old governor grinned, “And we’ve got a great trainer in Dean Winchester, and we’ve got a great owner in Castiel Novak, and we have a great jockey in Gabriel Novak. But most of all, we have a great horse in Lazarus Rising.” With glee the governor reached forward towards the trophy and picked it up in his wrinkled hands, offering it to Castiel who took it with the brightest of smiles. “Congratulations!” The cheers from the stands echoed loudly.

Governor Beshear stepped out of the way so that Rich could tilt the microphone towards Castiel. “How are you feeling right now?”

Castiel let the trophy settle against his chest as he began, “Lucky. Extremely and incredibly lucky. This is a time for me to reflect on how lucky I’ve been to have such a terrific trainer and partner in Dean Winchester. He has done everything the right way with this horse and never once let the criticism of his peers affect his work. You would hear people say how Dean’s time had come and gone and that he was a curse, but Dean was the only one who saw the potential in Lazarus that my late sister Anna had. He proved that she could do it, and I cannot thank him enough for being a part of my life in more ways than one.”

“Well, congratulations to you both in both racing and your personal life! Now we have John with jockey and trainer,” Rich took a step back to let his co-anchor take over.

“Alright, Rich, here with Gabriel Novak, brother to Castiel Novak. Now, Gabriel, when you first took Lazarus out of the gate back in her maiden race at Belmont, she was a mess. She still won her maiden race, but how has she changed since that rocky first start?”

“Lazarus has always had that fire,” Gabriel began, his face clean from the dirt and a baseball cap now on his head. “When she was just starting she had so much of it she just couldn’t control it, and now she has. I’ve never had to question her heart and desire to win. To be honest, I was worried as we settled in out of the gate and were in the back. It wasn’t a position we had ever found ourselves in, but Lazarus was so relaxed. I had to believe that she would tell me when she was ready to move, and she did. Lazarus knows how to play the game almost better than I do, and so really the hardest thing for me to do as a jockey riding her is letting her take control.”

“Congratulations, she made all the right decisions today. And you, Dean!” John squeezed his way in so that the cameras were now focused on Dean. “There was not a single owner that would hire you, and you were indeed labeled a curse amongst the racing world, not having a winning horse in over two years. Lazarus won all seven of her starts before today, and now she has beaten the colts in the Derby. What do you think changed?”

There was an explicit hesitation given by Dean before his green eyes locked with blue and he responded simply “Cas. Castiel gave me and Lazarus both the chance that nobody else would. You know, not every horse can be a winner, no matter who the trainer is. But some horses never get the chance to prove themselves. Lazarus and I were both begging for people to give us a chance, and Castiel did.” Castiel was looking at him with glazed eyes and something powerful tugged at his heart, urging him to say the words he had yet to find the courage for. “No one has ever done more for me than Cas, and for it, I love him.” Castiel’s eyes grew wide and Dean reached for the trophy from his arms and held it back in the general direction of his brother and Jess. “I love you, Cas.” Not even sure if anyone had indeed taken possession of the trophy he lunged forward and took Castiel into a fierce kiss. 

There were whistles and catcalls from the crowd and the anchors knew this was the best ending they could ask for. “Congratulations to you all, and we look forward to seeing you in Baltimore!”

Dean could not stop saying those three words the rest of the night. He spoke them during continued interviews, during the celebration at Churchill Downs, and then the after party at the bars. He whispered them lovingly into Castiel’s skin as he let their bodies fall onto the mattress of their hotel room.

They scrambled at each other’s clothing between kisses eager to touch skin. Castiel hooked his legs around Dean’s and flipped them so that he was on top once they were both naked. “I love you so much, Dean. So much.”

“I love you, too, baby,” Dean breathed into his mouth as they continued to kiss. Dean fucked Castiel slowly and intimately that night, taking in every thrust as if it would be his last, whispering sweet things into his lover’s ear with every snap of his hips. 

They fell asleep with the smell of roses filling the air.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  

Lazarus won the Preakness by four lengths in Baltimore. Even those who had never been to a horse race in their life had heard the hype about Lazarus and her chase for the Triple Crown. Her face was plastered in full color on every newspaper in America as the final race in New York crept closer. Record breaking attendance was expected with many believing that Lazarus would be the first in over 35 years to win the Triple Crown. Some had their doubts as several horses before her had won the first two but suffered defeat in the longest race at 1 ½ miles. 

Castiel had unwavering faith.

It was only just 6 am at Belmont Park, the sun just now starting to show itself over the horizon. It was cooler than it had been at the Derby being so far north, and Castiel could feel a chill run down his spine as he approached Lazarus’s stall. With stiff fingers Castiel unlatched the stall door and stepped into the filly’s room. She gave a soft nicker and reached out her nose in greeting. Castiel responded with a smile and placed his hands on her muzzle, her hot breaths comforting against his hands. 

“I’m glad you are so calm about this,” he chuckled as he began running one hand up and down her face. “I wonder if somehow deep down you know really what’s going on. That you know how important this is.” Lazarus lowered her head so that it was resting against the man’s chest. “Over a hundred horses have attempted to win the Crown, and only a handful has succeeded. For a filly...it’s been nothing but a distant dream. Many will try and bring you down today, but I know you will win. You must win....for Dean.” Castiel took the filly’s head in his hands and lifted it so that they were eye-level. “Can you do this for me? Can you win this for Dean? I want to see him truly happy, and this would bring him all the joy in the world.” Lazarus responded with a slow blink of her eyes and a curt snort. Castiel grinned, “Good.”

Dean was a ball of nervous energy the entire day, and no matter what Castiel did to try and calm him down it did not help. “You know,” he began as he witnessed his lover down another shot of whiskey, “Anymore of those and you’ll miss the race in lieu of being passed out on the floor.”

“I’m thinking that might be better than having a heart attack while I’m watching the damn race,” he responded, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve which earned him a harsh stare from his lover.

“Yeah, and when she wins and you’ve missed the race, you’re going to hate yourself,” Sam responded with a grin. He had put all his cases on hold back at the firm and with Jess firmly in tow they had stayed with Dean and Cas through the entirety of the five weeks. 

“Dean, you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it,” Jess said as she placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “She’s already done more than anyone has ever thought she would. You’ve already won.”

“Ah, no,” Dean shook his head firmly. “I don’t half-ass shit, Jess. It’s all or nothing.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “It’s no use, babe, he’s just a stubborn jerk.”

Castiel’s heart warmed at the friendly banter between Dean and his family and wrapped his arm around Dean’s. “Come on, we should head to the barn and make sure Charlie has Lazarus ready. They will be calling for them at the Paddock soon.”

“Aw, shit,” Dean muttered as he glanced at his watch to confirm that the time had really passed so quickly. “I need another drink.”

“No,” Castiel spoke sternly, tugging at Dean’s arm to get his attention away from the bar and on him.

“Come on, babe! Just one more!” Dean pleaded, pulling Castiel back in the other direction.

“Dean Winchester, if you do not come with me this instance I will refuse to bed you win or lose tonight,” the historian threatened. 

Jess giggled and Sam offered his brother a pained expression. “Ouch. Looks like he has you whipped, Dean.”

“Shut up,” Dean growled as he gave in and allowed Castiel to began dragging him away from the bar. “You wouldn’t really hold out on me, would you, Cas?”

A small smile tugged at Castiel’s lips as he gave a short glance out of the side of his glasses. “I would try, but I undoubtedly think you would have me give in before the night was over.”

The corner of Dean’s eyes crinkled in delight. “Can’t resist that Winchester charm.”

“Hmm,” Castiel hummed in agreement, “It would seem that way, now wouldn’t it?” Finding himself coming to a sudden stop he grabbed Dean’s hand and spun the trainer so that they were facing one another. “Dean,” he brought his hand to his cheek and held it close. “I just want you to know-,”

Dean gave a heavy sigh in annoyance, “Cas, come on-,”

“No, Dean,” Castiel pleaded, “Listen to me. Win or lose today, I love you. Everything has been worth it if for nothing but having been able to meet you.”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean whispered as tears stung at the corners of his green eyes, “You say that like shit is going to go down today.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Castiel chuckled, “I just know how you’ll be if she does lose, and I don’t want you to beat yourself up about it. Promise me you’ll be ok.”

“Cas-,”

“Dean. Promise me.”

Dean let his shoulders go slack and rubbed his thumb across Castiel’s. “Yeah, ok.”

“Good.” Castiel linked their fingers together and they walked out to the barns. Lazarus was pacing in her stall, occasionally stopping to poke her head out in full attention. “She seems anxious...”

“Are you kidding?” Charlie groaned irritably. “She won’t stop doing that. I swear, it’s like she knows. She is itching to get out of the stall and go.”

“Easy there, kiddo,” Dean murmured as he placed a hand on her muzzle. She stopped pacing, her ears forward and alert as she breathed into his hand. “Don’t wear yourself out before you even get in the gate.” She seemed to understand and her muscles relaxed beneath his touch. “Is she ready to go?”

Charlie nodded as she hooked the two leads on to the filly’s halter. “Yup. She’s ready to go win the Triple Crown.”

Dean opened the stall door and grabbed hold of the filly’s left lead. “Alright, then, let’s go do this.”

The paddock was already filling with people waiting to see Lazarus. When the four were within the sights of the crowd and cameras there was an eruption of shouts. Dean and Charlie led Lazarus into the 11th stall. It was a much smaller field than the Derby with only 14 horses allowed to run. All were horses that Lazarus had faced in the Derby, including Morningstar. Castiel and Dean waited patiently for the jockeys to surface with their saddles in hand.

There was no need for Dean to go over the horses as Gabriel was already familiar with them all. There was a silence between them as Lazarus was saddled and the filly began to grow anxious once more. All he really had to offer was, “Don’t let her go too early. There’s a lot of track out there, Gabe.”

Gabriel gave his nod in understanding. “I know.”

“RIDERS UP.”

Castiel smiled at his older brother as he buckled the helmet on his head, “You will be great.”

“It’s not about me, little bro, this is all on her.”

Castiel helped lead Lazarus to the track before she was handed off and he was left with Dean to head to their place in the stands next to Sam and Jess, but Castiel knew the look on Dean’s face. It was one that he had offered his brother and sister years ago. He was about to run. “Dean...”

“I can’t watch this, Cas. I don’t think I can. Not here, not like this with all the cameras,” Dean spoke, his voice ready to crack.

Dean wrapped both of his hands around Dean’s and held him in close. “I’ll be here, right here, every second of it.” The trumpet call came and all eyes were on the field. Dean’s grip grew tighter as the horses settled in by the gate ready to load, but Castiel didn’t mind. Dean could cut off his circulation and it would be just fine by him. A hush fell over the crowd as the final horse was loaded. Then the gates sprung open and the horses leaped out with fierce purpose.

“She looks so good out there!” Jess squealed in delight as the horses settled, Lazarus sitting fifth to start. 

Castiel felt himself grasp at Dean’s arm as his heart began beating wildly in his chest. Lazarus and Morningstar stood side-by-side as they started into the final turn, slowly overcoming the horses that had set the pace. The further they rounded the further the gap between the two horses and the pack. When they headed into the final stretch, Morningstar and Lazarus were over five lengths in front of the pack.

“Come on, Gabriel! Come on!” Dean’s knuckles were white as his grip grew impossibly tight around Castiel. 

“GO LAZARUS!!!” Jess’s wild screams echoed next to him.

Castiel’s eyes brightened with excitement as Lazarus began to overtake Morningstar, the crowd going crazy around him as her stride lengthened as she pounded into the dirt faster and harder. With only a hundred yards to go Lazarus was galloping several lengths ahead of Morningstar towards the finish line. “GO LAZARUS!!!” Time slowed as Gabriel raised his arm in victory as Lazarus crossed the finish line. He was kissing Dean fiercely, not even knowing when he had grabbed on to the man to do so, but all he could feel was pure joy.

But then a deathly silence wrapped itself around the track.

The crowd was no longer cheering and Sam and Jess had stopped offering up hugs and congratulations. Castiel turned his blue eyes back to the field and watched in disbelief. Lazarus’s hind leg was not touching the ground. Her head was tossing up vigorously as Gabriel attempted to bring her to a stop. And then she fell. The filly collapsed to the ground sending Gabriel flying across the track. 

It took several moments for Castiel to even realize Dean was no longer next to him and for it to dawn on him he should follow. Shoving through the crowd Castiel chased Dean onto the track and suddenly they were both running. The ambulance was already pulling up alongside the horse and jockey, and they were drawing out a long blue curtain lifting it up next to the fallen filly. Castiel’s heart slammed still. Even in all his ignorance, Castiel knew what that curtain was for. It was to hide the crowd from the view of the horse meeting its end. 

Everything came to a halt around Castiel. All he could register were the sounds of Lazarus’s painful cries as the track hands tried to force her down for the vet to administer the dose. Dean was screaming “NO. DON’T DO IT! NO!” Castiel stopped, bile threatening to rise at the scene that played out frame-by-frame before him. This could not be happening.

“She was fine!” Gabriel cried, tears streaming down his dirty covered face. “She...She was,” with a strangled cry Gabriel lunged for Castiel and the brothers clung to each other desperately, both crying as they watched the picture unfold.

“Don’t let them do it, Cas,” Gabriel pleaded into his brother’s chest. “Please don’t let them do it!”

God, please give me strength. Castiel gave his brother a tight squeeze and pulled away, knowing that it was up to him to try and salvage the despairing situation. Wiping at the tears in his eyes beneath his glasses he hurried over to where Dean was shouting at the on-site veterinarian.

“Let her up!” Dean roared through tears of his own.

“She’s shattered several bones in her back leg!” The woman argued. The name embroidered on her shirt read ‘DVM Meg Masters’. 

“I don’t care!” Dean shouted, several of the track assistants having to retain him from throwing a punch at the woman. 

“Can she be saved?” Castiel asked as he approached them, trying to keep his voice from shaking as he spoke. 

Meg crossed her arms irritably. “Maybe. And by that I mean there is an incredibly slim chance. This is a serious injury, and it’s going to cost a lot more than this horse is worth, even after winning the Triple Crown.”

“Cost is not an issue,” Castiel spoke through unsteady words. “If there is even the slightest chance she can be saved, I want it done.”

Meg gave a sigh, casting a glance at the horse that was fighting to keep the handlers away on the ground. “This is beyond my skill to treat. You’re going to need a specialist. I know a good surgeon, Dr. Milligan. I’ll call him up and have him meet you back in Kentucky. It’s best if we can transport Lazarus somewhere close to home.” She waved her assistants away and they began folding the curtain up, backing away from the filly who sprung to her three feet with wide and fearful eyes, snorting in terror with her back left leg tucked up underneath her. 

“Whoa, Laz, it’s ok girl, it’s fine,” Dean whispered between sobs, wrapping his arms around her neck. “I won’t let them do it. I won’t let them take you from me.”

Castiel carefully approached them. Lazarus was finally still, but her breaths were still harsh in panic and her eyes were on Castiel, weary of anyone who approached her. Castiel took the lead from one of the assistants and ran a soothing hand down the filly’s neck, calming her down enough that she finally lowered her head in a way that was all too similar to defeat. Burying his face into her fur he let out a sob. “I'm so sorry. I’m so sorry. I asked too much of you.”

Blinking away the blurriness he sucked in a deep breath and attempted to compose himself. “Dean. Dean, I need you to be strong. You promised me you would be ok no matter what happened. We have to get her into the trailer. Dr. Masters is going to get us the finest surgeon and we are going to save her, but I need you to help me.”

Dean seemed to clutch at Lazarus before relaxing himself and nodding. “Ok.”

“Gabriel,” Castiel called, wanting only those that the filly felt comfortable around working with her. With guidance from Dr. Masters they carefully coaxed the hurting filly into the trailer.

“I’ll be with her the entire way,” Meg said as she stepped into the trailer and the doors were shut around her.

“Cas...” Dean’s voice came out broken and completely defeated.

Castiel took Dean’s face in his, both their eyes filled with tears. “Dean, I-,” he choked on his words, having nothing of comfort to offer the man. They held each other, desperately trying to find some sort of hope to cling to in one another as the trailer pulled away. 

Newscasters didn’t bother them as they headed back to the stands. Spectators were crying and holding one another. Jess’s mascara was smeared across her face as she and Sam made their way back to them through a paralyzed crowd. Charlie was quick to offer to drive the trailer back on her own so that they could catch the first flight out. Dean protested, but it was short lived in his exhaustion. Sam mentioned something of Dean being afraid of planes, but Castiel would have never known. Dean sat in his seat the entire ride, head hanging low with bloodshot eyes, never speaking a word. 

By the time they had retrieved their luggage and pulled into the hospital, Lazarus and Dr. Masters had already arrived with Dr. Milligan standing by. They wasted no time getting to work.

It was an excruciating five hours. 

When Dr. Milligan finally did come out he looked exhausted. Black rings rimmed his eyes and his skin was pale, but it was no worse off than those who awaited an answer. “The surgery went very well, but she’s far from in the clear. There’s still high risk of laminitis forming and she’ll have to find a way to stay calm until the bones can fuse. We’re getting her into the pool now for when she wakes from the anesthesia.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowd, “Why does she need to be in a pool?”

“A lot of horses wake up in a state of confusion,” the young doctor began, “It’s not unheard of with race horses to wake up thinking they are still in the middle of the race. If that does happen, it’s much safer for her to be in the pool so that she doesn’t hurt herself thrashing about. Look, there isn’t really anything else that can be done at this point. It’s all a waiting game. Why don’t we all go home and try and get some rest.

There was a strong reluctance to leave, but they knew the vet was right and they would be no good to Lazarus in this state. Missouri greeted them all with a long face and let them know she would be happy to get food for anyone who wanted it, but no one accepted the offer. Instead they all headed straight for bed, Missouri having prepared a guest room for Sam and Jess. 

When Castiel tried to warp his arms around Dean in their bed, he shrugged him off and turned away from him inching to the furthest corner of the mattress. “Dean, please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice quivering with hurt as he spoke. Dean did not offer any kind of response. Castiel felt his heart shatter and he curled into a ball facing away from Dean, crying silently as sleep evaded him.

/*/

Dean hadn’t slept a wink. It had been almost 5 am by the time they had all made it back from the surgery. He has been awake for over 24 hours, but he had still been able to find peace. Whenever he had briefly slept away he dreamt of Lazarus falling over and over into the dirt, a nightmare that would not stop haunting him. Exhausted of trying to sleep he got out of bed and headed for the shower. It was nearly 10 when he walked into the kitchen, the scent of coffee hitting his nose like a blessing.

Missouri poured a cup for him and handed it over. “Oh, honey, you don’t look like you even bothered to close your eyes.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean shrugged as he pulled out a chair for the bar area right next to the sink where Missouri was working. His eye caught a glimpse of the morning paper. “Can I see that?”

Missouri frowned, “You sure you want to read that?”

Dean hesitated, but then nodded. He was going to have to face the backlash sooner or later. He could only imagine what hateful things they were saying about him now. Missouri handed him the paper and the headline read in bold letters “THE CROWNING OF A WINNER BRINGS TRAGEDY” A photo of Castiel and Gabriel embracing lay under the title.

“June 1st, 2013 - Kentucky Derby and Preakness Stakes winner Lazarus Rising broke down after crossing the finish line of the Belmont on Saturday, unable to celebrate victory when her left hind end gave out. The hushed crowd of a record breaking 104,000 plus people watched as jockey Gabriel Novak was thrown from his mount and Lazarus Rising collapsed to the track.

Lazarus Rising powered by Morningstar to win the Belmont Stakes by over seven lengths in 2:26, making her the third fastest horse in the history of the race, and the first winner of the Triple Crown since Affirmed in 1978. She is the first filly in history to win the Crown.

Lazarus Rising was diagnosed with a fracture above the left ankle. Dr. Meg Masters, the on-site veterinary for Belmont, called it a “life-threatening” injury. “It’s a serious fracture,” Masters said. “Her career is over and her life could be, too.”

As soon as his horse broke down, trainer Dean Winchester ran onto the track to stop what appeared to be the immediate euthanasia of the horse on the field. Owner Castiel Novak embraced the jockey and his brother, Gabriel, as the jockey said, “She was fine, she was fine!”

Fans were crying in the stands as the filly was loaded into the ambulance and taken away.

It was an all-too-familiar scene for trainer Dean Winchester -”

Dean couldn’t read anymore. Slamming the paper down he hung his head in his hands. He knew they had made the comparison between him and his father. He had turned out to be everything he dreaded becoming.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Castiel lifted himself onto the chair next to Dean. “It wasn’t your fault, Dean.” His hand crawled over towards Dean’s, but the man snatched it away.

“It was all my fault,” Dean retorted, the muscles in his body tensing. “I should have never have raced a filly against colts. It was impossible and stupid.”

“Dean, how can you say that?” Castiel asked in disbelief. “She won. She did the impossible.”

“At the cost of her life!” Dean slammed his fist against the table top.

“Son, you need to calm down,” Missouri frowned, quickly grabbing anything that was in jeopardy of breaking if he had another outburst.

But Dean blatantly ignored her. “She is going to die, because I wanted so badly to prove to everyone I wasn’t my dad, but I did the exact opposite. I proved to everyone how much of him I really am!”

Castiel stood from his seat, trying to reach out to Dean but he only slapped his arm away. “You might as well just fire me, Cas, because I’m just a no-good curse!”

“Dean, don’t-,” Castiel tried, but was cut off as he flinched from the continued yelling.

Dean was alive with rage and anger. Loss and emptiness. So much emptiness. “I break everything I touch, Cas,” Dean shouted, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. “I’ll break you, too.”

Dean watched as Castiel curled in on himself, and then he turned around and headed for their room, unable to look at his face any longer. Although his eyes were wet, there was just not enough for tears any longer. He had expelled everything that was in him to cry. 

There was a knock on the door and Sam entered the room with a frown on his face. “That wasn’t fair, Dean. Cas didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m only trying to spare him the pain I bring everyone,” Dean responded, eyes cast on the floor.

“You aren’t like Dad, Dean,” Sam argued as he took a seat next to his brother on the bed. “If you were, you would have let them euthanize Lazarus on the track without so much of a word. You wouldn’t have cared. But you do. Everyone knows how much you care for Lazarus and how much you care for Castiel. What is like Dad is pushing him away. He pushed Mom away and look what happened. Don’t do that, Dean. Please, don’t push Castiel away.”

“What if she doesn’t make it, Sam?” Dean’s voice trembled, his heart aching with an incredible force.

“Then it won’t be because you didn’t try. Accidents happen. Athletes get hurt. This wasn’t because you decided to push her too hard. It just...happened. And it sucks. But this isn’t anyone’s fault. We’ve done everything we could do. Now it’s just up to Lazarus.” Sam placed a hand on his brother’s back. 

Sucking in his breath Dean apologized, “Sorry for waking you.”

Sam gave a snort, “Yeah, that would require me having been asleep in the first place. Besides, it’s not me that needs to hear an apology.”

Dean swallowed and gave a nod, pushing himself up and off the bed. “Thanks, Sammy...” He flashed his brother a weak smile and headed back to the kitchen, but Castiel wasn’t there. 

“He’s on the back patio,” Missouri spoke, mixing a bowl of something together as she did so.

Dean nodded and headed for the glass doors that lead to the porch. Castiel was leaning against the railing that overlooked the entire farm. Rubbing nervously at the back of his neck he approached Castiel and said, “I’m sorry...”

Castiel looked up at him with sad eyes. “I told you once that I didn’t care that you were cursed. That I’d rather have you. I still mean that, Dean.”

Dean felt his heart fall in his chest. “I don’t deserve you, Cas.”

“You are not the one to decide that,” Castiel responded. “Please, Dean. Please don’t try to go through this alone. Let’s get through this together.” He took Dean into his arms and ran his fingers through the ash brown hair. “Do you remember, the first day we met? When I asked you if Lazarus could win? You told me that what made a great racehorse was their heart. You said that the greatest racehorses were ones who wanted to run and that would settle for nothing less than victory. Lazarus never settled for anything other than winning on the track, and she will settle for nothing less than living.”

Dean wrapped his arms tighter around Castiel and let the older man stroke his head. “I love you, Cas.”

“I love you, too,” Castiel responded, giving his forehead a light kiss. “Now, let’s go see how she’s doing.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  

It was well into the afternoon by the time Dean and Castiel drove up to the veterinarian hospital in the Impala. It had reached well into the 80s that day which was hot for Kentucky. It had even Castiel in a polo as opposed to his usual dress shirt. They were slow to make it to the barn in their tired state, but Dr. Milligan was greeting them with a heart-lifting smile. 

“She woke up and made it to her stall with absolutely no problems. In fact, I’ll say it was better than expected, despite the fact it was the hardest surgery I’ve ever performed. She’s definitely in good spirits,” the doctor smiled. “Why don’t we go see her? I’ll need you both to wear gowns when we go into the treatment area. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in the stall with her just quite yet, but you can at least see she’s up.”

Meg was amongst the several technicians that were bustling around in their scrubs and she handed the two men the blue medical gowns to put on over their clothes. “Your unicorn is quite the fighter, I’ll give her that.”

Dean knew he should have felt excited seeing Lazarus alive, but the state she was in was devastating to him. Her entire body was placed in a giant sling in the stall to support her weight and her back left leg was completely encased in a giant cast. IV tubes were hooked up to her neck, bags hanging from the ceiling of the stall. Castiel gave his had a comforting squeeze as they were brought closer to her. The filly was munching away at some hay and her ears pricked forward at seeing Dean and Castiel, a small nicker finding its way to them. 

“I know it must be tough seeing her like this, but so far we have encountered the best-case-scenario,” Dr. Milligan stated.

Dean didn’t feel that way. “So...her odds are better? She’s going to be ok?”

Dr. Milligan shot him a sympathetic look. “Like I said earlier, she’s not out of the woods. Honestly, we can’t breathe easy until she’s walking on it completely sound, and that will take months. If the bones have fused without complications, in two months or so, then I’d say her chances are good, but right now I can only truthfully give her a 50-50 shot. I really have to worry about laminitis and other hoof problems that occur in her other legs when she tries to compensate.” Picking up on downed spirits he added, “We’ll see if she can put some weight on it tomorrow comfortably. We’ll just take it day by day.”

“Thank you, Doctor, we appreciate everything you’ve done for her,” Castiel gave him a nod of gratitude and turned towards Dean with a sad smile. “It’s going to be ok.”

“I want to go,” Dean mumbled, unable to keep his eyes on Lazarus.

“Dean,” Castiel pleaded, but Dean gave him an insistent look. “Ok.” 

They made their way out of the intensive care area and slipped out of the gowns. Dean tried to come up with some reasonable excuse to give Castiel for his need to leave, but there was nothing other than cowardice. Silently they walked outside and they were met with camera crews calling their names and a huge crowd surrounding the facility. Dean’s eyes grew wide in initial shock before a wave of anger washed over him. “Son of a bitch! Why can’t they just give us five fucking minutes of peace before -,”

“Dean,” Castiel placed a hand on his lover’s chest to stop him from lunging forward. “Stop. Look.”

He was looking, dammit, but Dean stopped in his tracks and turned his view to the crowd gathered behind the camera crew. Many of them were holding signs, and several children held flowers in their hands. A smaller group of people were taping signs to the fence surrounding the facility.

Pray for Lazarus

We love you Lazarus

Go, Lazarus, Go!

Dean’s heart gave a flutter and a lump formed in his throat. It was an unbelievable sight to witness, and it was the last thing he ever hoped to see in his lifetime. “Cas, I don’t think I can talk to the media right now.” With the right questions from the news anchor he felt he would just break.

“Well, unfortunately, talking with the media comes with the job. They are going to want to talk to you, but I’ll be right there,” Castiel squeezed his arm and it only took a few steps before the media pounced.

“Dean! What is the prognosis on Lazarus?” The blonde woman asked, shoving her microphone towards Dean’s face.

Dean cleared his throat and offered the woman a fake smile, “The surgery went very well. Lazarus is awake and eating some, but she’s not out of the woods yet. Right now we really just have to wait and see how she heals.”

“People all over are coming together to offer flowers, and cards, and all sorts of gifts to Lazarus. Did you ever think she would receive this kind of support?”

Dean gave his inner cheek a quick bite to hold himself together before responding, “It’s incredible. It’s really amazing to see that Lazarus has affected so many people. She’s been an inspiration, not only to me, but to the horse community in general. I am very appreciative to everyone who has come out here today and those that are sending prayers from all over the country.”

The woman noticed Castiel behind him and took the opportunity to pass Dean for him. “Castiel, as owner, do you have any plans to breed Lazarus if she makes it through this?”

Dean felt the need to slap the bitch for asking such a ridiculous question, but he knew Castiel did not need his assistance. Calmly, he answered, “At this point we are not concerned with anything other than Lazarus’s life and well-being. Nothing would make me happier than to see a foal out of her. However, if the veterinarians recommend she not be bred for whatever reason, we will not do it. The decision to try and save Lazarus was not motivated by money, but strictly by the fact we all love her so dearly.”

“Well, we certainly hope the best for her and her recovery.”

Dean scowled at the woman as they moved past her and towards the Impala. “Bitch.”

Castiel sighed as he reached for the door handle, “It was a fair question.”

“No, it was an asshole question,” he responded. He was about to duck his head down to get into the car when there was a tug at his shirt. Turning around he saw a little girl, no older than 6, staring at him with a letter in her hands. 

“Mr. Winchester?” She asked, hiding behind the large pink piece of paper in her hands.

“Hey there, kiddo. What’s that you’ve got?” Dean asked, kneeling so that he was her height.

“I wrote Laz’us a letter. Could you give it to her for me?” She asked, blue eyes wide and pleading.

Dean held his hand out for the letter, “Sure thing.” She handed the letter over and then scurried off back towards the crowd.

“What does it say?” Castiel asked curiously over Dean’s shoulder.

In bright crayon and scribbly writing it read:

Dear Lazarus Rising  
I am sorry u hurt ur leg. I hope u get well soon so u can race again. I will think of u every day.   
From Tracy

At the bottom of the letter was a stick-figure horse with a heart around it. Dean held the letter against his heart and leaned into the kiss Castiel gently placed on his cheek. “What if she doesn’t make it, Cas...?”

“She will, Dean. She will.”

There were signs all over town supporting Lazarus. Store marquees were filled with prayers and the local flower shop was offering specials on bouquets sent to the hospital in honor of the filly. Although there were no tears, Dean felt like a blubbering mess by the time he and Castiel finally made it home. The aroma of Missouri’s freshly made pies were comforting as they scuffled into the kitchen tiredly.

“How is she doing?” Jess asked, nursing a cup of tea at the table with Sam across from her. He had his laptop on and several folders scattered around him full of work related cases. It was a reminder to Dean that the world didn’t stop for one horse.

“As good as she can be,” Dean sighed, muttering his thanks to Missouri as she placed a slice of apple pie in front of him, but as he went for the fork he found his appetite wasn’t there.

“You don’t want pie?” Sam frowned in concern.

Dean shrugged, “Not hungry, I guess.”

“Please do not make me force feed you,” Castiel said teasingly as he took a seat next to him, but he frowned when Dean did not smile at his jest. “Dean, please. Eat. There is no sense in beating yourself over this any further. It’s no longer in our hands.”

With a reluctant sigh he picked up the fork and bit off a piece of the pie. It was good. It was damn good. He took a larger bite the second round and they all smiled at him, knowing there was no way he could resist it for long. “You know,” he began, “I’m glad you two are here, but don’t feel like you have to stay.”

“Dean, don’t be stupid,” Sam responded simply. “We’re staying as long as we are welcome.”

“And you are welcome for as long as you want to stay,” Castiel nodded. 

“Dontch you have wur’ or som’king?” Dean asked between chews of a now full mouth of pie.

Sam’s initial reaction was his infamous bitch-face. “There are other lawyers than can handle things right now. I can do research for them without having to be there.”

Dean shrugged and got up to slice another piece of the pie, all his earlier worries seemed forgotten.

Over the next few weeks Lazarus got increasingly better, and Gabriel finally came out of hiding to go see the filly. She responded with so much excitement to the jockey’s presence that Dr. Milligan had actually requested he go in the stall with her. She was still hooked up to some IVs, but she had been taken out of the sling and she was placing weight on the back leg, although somewhat gingerly. The jockey hand walked her up and down the aisle a few times to help get the blood flowing and he was practically beaming with pride.

“I have high hopes,” Dr. Milligan told them as they settled her back into the stall. “The bones are almost completely fused back together and we can start taking her on longer walks and maybe letting her go outside to graze.

That night, Dean found Castiel at his desk, furiously typing away at the keyboard. Sprawling himself out on the desk suggestively he asked, “What are you doing?”

Castiel smiled and gave Dean a kiss over his shoulder. “I’m working on a historical document.”

“That so?” Dean hummed, swinging his legs over the desk and reaching for the top buttons of Castiel’s shirt. 

Castiel shrugged Dean away and whined in annoyance, “Dean, I’m trying to work here.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “History will be there forever, Cas, my erection won’t. What are you even writing about, anyways?” He placed his hands on Castiel’s shoulders and leaned in towards the screen. At the top of the word document in bold leaders read “LAZARUS RISING: UP THROUGH THE ASHES”. Dean sucked in a breath. “Are....are you writing a book about Lazarus?”

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“Babe, that’s not exactly a historical document,” he said in amusement, placing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Of course it is. Lazarus will forever be known as the first, and maybe only, filly to win the Triple Crown. Therefore, it’s historical, and it is a document in which I am writing,” he retorted.

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and snuggled his cheek up against his lover’s stubble. “Don’t ever change, Cas. Don’t ever change.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  

A horse’s hooves clacked against the brick beneath their feet, bouncing off the walls in an echo. The tunnel was dark, but a light at the end grew brighter with every step they took. Dean held the left lead, and Castiel the right. Gabriel, dressed in his silks, followed in behind. He was not on the horse, and his helmet was absent from his head. As they passed through the veil of light the silence exploded into cheers.

The three men stayed together as they walked the bay without saddle or bridle across the track and onto the grass towards the podium. They came to a halt just at the base of the podium, several men in suits smiling down at them as track assistants switched places and took hold of the horse so they could join the suits. 

The newscaster, Rich, from NBC that was at every leg of the Crown brought his microphone to his lips and turned towards the cameras. “One year ago we witnessed history in the making right here at Belmont. It was, however, not the celebratory moment we were all hoping for as Lazarus Rising broke down in front of a crowd of over 104,000. Men, women, and children all over the country wept as Lazarus was taken off the field in an ambulance, her fate uncertain. Today, Lazarus stands before us, finally ready to receive her award. The Governor of New York, Andrew Cuomo, is here to present the trophy.”

“Rich, we have waited a year to reach this moment,” Cuomo began. “What happened last year was tragic, but Lazarus has always been a fighter, and she proved to us she could defeat the greatest of enemies. It is with my extreme pleasure, that I present owner Castiel Novak with the Belmont Stakes trophy.” There was a loud roar of applause as Castiel accepted the trophy. “But there is a greater reason we are here today. It had not been done in 35 years, but this filly was able to rise up to the challenge. I am incredibly pleased to be able to present to owner Castiel, trainer Dean Winchester, and jockey Gabriel Novak, the Triple Crown.” Dean took the three-sided vase and marveled at the engravings monumenting every jewel of the crown she had won. 

“Castiel, how does it feel to finally be standing here a year later?” Rich asked.

Castiel gave a small laugh, “Impossible. It wasn’t as smooth as a recovery as we had hoped, and there were times towards the end of the year we thought we might lose her, but she proved to be the great horse we always thought she was. The fact that she won that battle means more to me than the crown, honestly. We are so lucky to be able to have her in our lives today.”

“Gabriel,” Rich moved on, “You were actually thrown from Lazarus when she was injured. What was going through your mind?”

“Terror,” Gabriel responded. “Just pure, complete, terror. There was no indication, no warning, that she was injured. I didn’t even care about myself. It wasn’t until after we had already made it back to Kentucky that I noticed my hand was swelling and that I had broken my wrist when I landed on it in the fall. I didn’t care about myself, I just wanted Lazarus to be ok.”

“Well, we can all rest easy that she is indeed ok. Dean, do you ever think that you will ever have another horse like Lazarus?”

Dean laughed, “Absolutely not. You know, she’s no Secretariat, but she’s an incredible horse in her own right, and I don’t think there can be another like her. There will never be anyone else who has accomplished the things that she has done, and It’s been a privilege to be the one that got her there. I have a great horse in Purgatory this year, but he couldn’t follow up his Derby win in the Preakness. I think he’ll give a great showing today, but he’s definitely no Lazarus.”

“There is indeed no other Lazarus Rising. We congratulate you all on your victory, and for Lazarus Rising’s recovery,” Rich smiled.

Dean, Castiel, and Gabriel descended the stairs of the podium with trophies in hand and gathered around Lazarus. Cameras flashed wildly to document the moment for all time. 

The photo hung framed in the National Museum of Racing in Saratoga Springs, New York.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  

“Dean...” Castiel moaned under the covers, his breaths coming hot and heavy as Dean’s hands roamed over his skin. 

Dean ground his hips down against the man beneath him and groaned in pleasure, his mouth on Castiel’s in heated passion.

“GUYS! GUYS!” The doors to the bedroom swung open as Gabriel leapt in.

“Jesus christ!” Dean hissed as he flung the covers off his head. “What the hell, Gabe?”

“Ew, were you guys having sex?” Gabriel’s face scrunched up in disgust. 

“Uh, yeah, so if you could please leave,” Dean hissed.

“Well think of Missouri naked to lower the flag, Dean-o, and put on some pants! Lazarus is about to drop her foal!”

Castiel and Dean flung out of bed grasping at the thrown articles of clothing around the room, scrambling to get them on fast enough. They were still buttoning shirts and zipping up jeans when they got to the barn. Lazarus was on the ground, Charlie supporting the mare’s head and Bobby helping pull at the foal as the horse pushed with pained grunts. 

“Easy girl,” Bobby soothed, “You’re almost there. Just a little bit more, now. Come on, one more push!” Lazarus pawed at the ground as she stretched her head and gave a mighty groan as Bobby pulled and the foal was on the ground. He instantly grabbed for the towels, “You two idjits mind helping?”

Dean and Cas both sprung into action to help clean off the newborn. Dean eagerly worked at the hind end to see what they had been given. He smiled at the result. “It’s a filly.”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand as the filly shook its head and attempted to stand. Her knees wobbled violently and she was only up right for a second before she was plunging back into the hay causing the audience to laugh. Castiel leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder as they watched her try again. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded as he leaned against his lover. “What are you going to call her?”

Castiel thought about it, before inhaling a confidence breath and responding, “Anna’s Grace.”


End file.
